![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Epicverse Part II (c) ||
 | The Monitor came online with a start. He jerked awake and was immediately on alert though nothing more than a stray file of temporary memory had woken him. He went through a hurried reboot, checking his internals and running external scans on the local sector all at once to ascertain the state of things. Everything checked out negative, calm and usual, and he settled back down the tiniest bit, chagrined at his own overreaction. He ran a diagnostic--he still wasn't at optimum output but at 92.08% it was well within satisfactory parameters--and then another, more thorough scan of the surrounding area. Again, everything checked out normal. But the fleeting image file wouldn't leave Rinzler alone despite the fact that he couldn't clearly recall what it had been. Suppressing an involuntary shiver, the security program forced himself to get to his feet and stretch his stiff limbs. He glanced at Ram out of the corner of his visor. When he'd finished stretching the enforcer couldn't prevent himself from beginning to pace. It kept his processes from focusing though and drove him to distraction until finally he had to stop himself. It was several nanocycles after the fact when he realized he'd taken up a defensive position near the regenerating actuarial program. He stared down at the offline program and discovered that his processes didn't run rampant as he watched the other sleep. He relaxed the longer he gazed at Ram's unconscious form and eventually found himself sitting next to the other, resting a hand on the actuarial program's chest as if to ascertain his continued existence, and subconsciously guarding over him with the loyalty of an alert-byte. |
When Ram finally began to reboot, it came with a mild storm of memory defragmentation that made his breathing hitch as energy was diverted from his outer processes. Coming online with a shudder, the first thing he became aware of was Rinzler's low, distinctive rumble: a calm sound, as Rinzler sounds went, and... very close at hand. [[I'm almost sorry for arguing you into this fluffness. ALMOST. :D]] |
![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=2){kind=small}
The rumble grew louder as Ram came online and Rinzler silently greeted him back into the world. He waited patiently for the other program to reboot completely, not moving in the slightest so as not to disrupt the process and startle his slighter companion. His hand still rested lightly on Ram's chest as he sat next to the actuarial program as close as physically possible while he guarded him. [[Because we all know "almost" only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades. So there's a null statement.]] |
Okay. Make that really close. The situation was unexpected, but perhaps resting had increased Ram's awareness capacity. Though unsure of how or why, he knew that Rinzler's status was much better than it had been a millicycle ago. He understood the protectiveness written into the lines of the still figure, almost as well as if he'd been able to see through the ever-present helmet. Rinzler's hand was warm, and at least for the moment, Ram wasn't afraid. Tron. Thank you. As much as he didn't want to break the equilibrium the Monitor had achieved, he slid up onto his elbows, shifting under Rinzler's touch but not moving away from it. "You're looking better," he said, for lack of anything else that made sense. [[Oh dear, you saw through my strategem. :D]] |
Rinzler's hand stayed on Ram's chest as the actuarial program shifted and his black-sheened gaze followed his movement to keep eye contact (though technically it was one-sided because of the helmet). He made what could pass for a pleased sound at Ram's awkward greeting. "Yes," he replied after a brief moment. There was a long pause as the security program seemed to try and compute an appropriate response. It seemed he had given up when finally he came out with, "I waited for you." It was said so quite innocently it hardly sounded like the enforcer at all despite the usual distortion from the helmet's presence. And though he said it on purpose, Rinzler couldn't compute for the life of him necessarily why. It was an obvious fact; but he had felt the compulsion to say it anyway. Like it meant something. Something important. [[XD]] |
"You did." Ducking his head, but still (presumably) keeping the eye contact as well, Ram smiled. "I appreciate that." He was pretty sure this behavior pattern couldn't have been the result of any lousy reprogramming. For a moment, his still slightly fragmented memory substituted a different face leaning over him, a different situation; the pain of it touched his smile and he reached up to grip Rinzler's hand with his own. Flynn did help you back then. He kept his promise. It's my turn now. Before the moment could turn awkward, he scooted further up, getting his legs under him. The downtime had really made a difference -- he could go for some energy now, of course, but the cycling exhaustion had gone and he felt ready to face whatever this led to. "So what's the next step?" [[*plays 'Between Two Points'* XDDDDDD~]] |
He calculated for a moment as he continued to stare at Ram with his seemingly unblinking gaze. There was no hostility behind it whatsoever but it was a piercing gaze by default and capable of sending a spark of negative energy down the most fortified program's core lines. He tilted his head to one side as he considered how to answer the question when suddenly his processors caught up to the fact that Ram was still holding his hand. He glanced down at the hold on him but did not pull away. "...Access memory files. Discover the truth. Hack pass firewall if need be; try accessing ghost partitioned files if necessary." He said in an unfocused manner as he continued to stare blankly at the hand on his own. [[Hee~!]] |
For once, though Ram didn't know it, the helmet was helping. Already inclined to see Rinzler as friendly, at least at the moment, he didn't interpret the long stare as anything more than the security program's usual tendency to process for a long time while acting outside of his baseline parameters. Releasing the Monitor's hand, though he didn't move away, Ram nodded briskly. "It's still risky," he pointed out. "The firewalls shut you down last time. Is there a way I can help if something like that happens again?" |
"I know what I'm getting into this time," he said, still a bit absent sounding as he continued to stare at his hand, flexing it a few times as if that would produce solutions to his undetermined feelings. "I will take my time; I know how to get around these things." Finally, he looked back up at Ram. "There isn't much. Extra energy on hand would be nice. You could try sending out an anchoring tie...if you know how." |
Ram blinked, staring at the other program in surprise. He made as if to speak, then checked himself, a strange expression clouding his features -- seeming, for a moment, to look inward, as though at a data set that had correlated in an unexpected way. Then, very slowly, he nodded. "It wouldn't be very strong," he said. While he did have a knack for pure calculation, his networking algorithms weren't designed for anything really strenuous. "But I know how. If it'll help, let's go for it." Edited at 2011-01-19 01:44 pm UTC |
Rinzler nodded, not having expected that answer but pleased by it nonetheless. It was definitely much more than he had hoped for and that alone made it priceless. The red-circuited program halted a second to consider his last frame of thought. Then shook it off as yet another random behavioral algorithm brought on by being with the actuarial program, ignored it, and folded in on himself to sit in a position that he could maintain for cycles. Once he was settled and turned to look at Ram. "Ready?" |
Ram had also shifted into a sustainable posture, silently reviewing the algorithm they'd need to make the connection. It was a complex piece of code for a very simple function -- a metaphorical safety rope anchored outside of a program performing self-diagnostics, a stable lifeline in case something went wrong: not something that he'd often had reason to use. Nodding at the question, he held out his hands and looked Rinzler in the... helmet, confound it... again, unable to suppress a slight shiver of suspense. "I hope you find what you're looking for." |
Rinzler placed his fingertips on top of Ram's with a featherlight touch and gave a determined nod. He would find it and process it if it derezzed him to finish the function. Of course, he was a sane enough program to want it not get to that. A profound silence fell over the room blanketing it with a heavy air as the security program went into a diagnostic trance. Even Rinzler's rumble quieted into such a dull purr that it passed through the processor as just a part of the silence, a white noise in a room full of static. His circuitry dimmed, and then he was gone. Internally, Rinzler took a backdoor route headed for the firewalled memory files inside his CPU. He watched carefully as the firewall shifted and undulated with his lithe movements, matching him action for action as he searched for a way around the formidable blockade. He sent feelers that were barely connected to his consciousness to poke and prod at the firewall so that he didn't trigger the reboot with his own touch. In this way he slowly accumulated a matrix of data that told him how strong the firewall was, what kind, what it was meant to block, and, most importantly, how to penetrate it. Millicycles passed by as he went through this long process. Rinzler chose an isolated memory file when he finally calculated the time was right to try something more risky. He moved cautiously, fortifying himself with firewalls of his own and then moving in like a shadow in the dark, flitting past the security code with a deft maneuver. He reached out to access the memory-- --aloud, he groaned hoarsely as the static-filled vision hit his processors. Unbidden, Rinzler saw another memory rise beyond the firewall as if summoned by context. He knew from the look of it that it was one of the memories hidden behind the ghost partition that--whoever erected this barrier around his older memories--hadn't been able to see, much less place behind a firewall for their own nefarious designs. Winding his way back through the firewall, the security program reached out as if to touch the older memory, hesitating with his essence outstretched and hovering warily. He accessed it. Everything looked different in the memory; the System was not the one he knew so intimately now, was not the same Grid or Outlands that he would see if he looked out at it right now in real time. And he knew, somehow, that there was another there with them and that person had amazed and aided him in some grand way. His CPU knew who that person was but his processors refused to admit it. But the important part was that now he knew where Ram came from. |
The actuarial program was his friend from the start. They had persevered and survived together. They had fought and won together. They had believed together. Rinzler came to with a start--ejected from his reverie by the sudden realization that struck him. His systems whined in protest and he gasped for air as he struggled to defrag too quickly without warrant. His processors couldn't handle the instant transition and he began to shut down cold. For an immeasurable instant if felt like he was swimming through a darkening tunnel with no way to sense which direction was up, down, left, or right. It was then that he found and clung to the minute link that Ram had provided him to the outside world. He used it to drag himself out of the darkness in a slow effort of will. His fingers bit into Ram's hand as he grasped at the other in as tight a grip as he could. It helped though it must have been painful to his companion. When his vision cleared he found himself still clinging to Ram for all that he was worth. He worked on slowing his breathing, his racing CPU, and settling his processors to stop spinning in circles so fast. After a long while he loosed his grip and--though Ram couldn't tell--looked up at the actuarial program with apology written all over his expression. Apology, and gratitude. |
For Ram, the hardest part was waiting. Though his code was the anchor, there was no way for him to tell what was happening in Rinzler's memory as the Monitor's steady purr quieted and his circuits dimmed. Impatient, Ram held his fingers steady against Rinzler's, the open channel between them telling him nothing except that the connection was still live, that nothing had disrupted it -- yet. Slowing his own processes, he put all his focus into backup measures, hoping to maintain the thread even if something did go wrong. Long nanocycles passed. A hoarse noise from Rinzler put him on alert. Opening his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- he saw a stuttering ripple in Rinzler's circuitry, the program hunched over as though under attack. Instinctively, he checked the anchoring channel; it was still open, but there was a tension to it, the phantom reverberation of something happening on the other end. Rinzler's circuits flickered, snapped like sparks, dark to red to white, and even as Ram's hands tightened of their own accord, Rinzler's hands spasmed and clenched around them. There was pain, but Ram didn't have time to process it. The connection was strained to breaking point and all of his calculations went to shoring it up. Rinzler should have had a stronger program to help him with this. If he fell away because Ram wasn't powerful enough to-- --but then it was over. The lifeline was gone, but only because it was no longer needed. Rinzler, seen dimly through the haze of fragmentation clouding Ram's vision, was still bent over their clasped hands, shaking through reintegration, his pulsing circuits slowly steadying as they changed one by one from white back to red. The crushing power of his grip began to make itself known, but Ram felt no imperative to let go, and didn't realize his own hold was just as tight until Rinzler's began to relax. By the time Rinzler's head finally lifted, Ram's taxed functions had also regained an unsteady equilibrium. Still holding Rinzler's hands lightly -- he wasn't sure he could move his own if he tried -- he waited for him to say something, but Rinzler just sat there silently and the helmet was as inexpressive as ever. At least no harm seemed to have been done. Finally, tentatively, Ram spoke. "What happened? What did you see?" |
"You." He spoke in a tone similar to that of hushed awe, like he was out of breath but his voice was firm. He continued to stare at Ram in the near silence that had fallen around them once more. This time though it held a sense of tension in it, as if the air itself were holding its breath in anticipation for what was to come next. "I saw an old memory with you in it. You were smiling and--" he cut himself off as his processor caught up with his mouth. He couldn't be sure if the memory was completely happy after that one moment considering how little of it he saw. But he focused on that one second of the memory and knew it was worth the trouble to find. It made him smile beneath the helmet. He focused his thoughts back on track. "It wasn't in this System, was it?" he asked though he was certain the answer could only be one thing. |
The tone was hardly Rinzler's anymore. Ram, his thoughts lagging to a halt, let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been keeping back, and an almost incredulous smile broke across his face. Those white lights hadn't been his imagination, then, or the voice, or the noetic knowledge that underneath Clu's coding was a program who had always held his trust. He hadn't realized until now what a relief it would be to no longer be the only one who remembered. Nodding encouragingly, his own voice hushed, he answered, "No. It... it was long before that." |
"And there was someone else with us," he continued in a more excited tone, Ram's encouragement infecting him. It was a barely noticeable difference but certainly there for anyone truly looking. "We had just..." he shook his head. "Lightcycles..." But the effort hurt Rinzler to process after spending so much time devoted to such hard work inside his systems. And the memories were still partitioned behind that other half of him... The security program blinked at the odd revelation. "Ram...? Who am I?" |
Lightcycles. Flynn. He was remembering. Ram leaned forward, caught up in the rush, but even now he could see how much the struggle to find himself was wearing on the Monitor. The question brought him up short. "You were -- a security program," he said, caution warring with a desire to keep talking, to tell him everything, right from the beginning. "The most powerful one in the old System, just as you were here." His voice shook a bit. "We were friends. Times were troubled -- you taught me how to survive. I think -- I think, behind the firewall, you're still that program." Who am I? There was so much to say. Ram stopped again, groping for words, trying to figure out how much he could say without setting off another failsafe. |
Rinzler listened intently to what Ram said. He knew he was a security program--even now that was his primary function--but the way Ram said it made it sound like so much more. It made him sound special, especially combined with how Ram praised him in the next statement. But again it was simply fact that that was what he was--and yet when Ram said it he couldn't help but feel as though there was something more that he was missing behind the meaning of the description. He tried to remember what they were racing from and realized he was slowly piecing things together when he remembered they had escaped from somewhere bad. They had been prisoners for something they believed in. Again the revelation struck the Monitor, only this time he was perfectly safe from shutting down if not from the wave of astonishment that accompanied the data once more. They had believed in... "Users are not deities. Ram, Clu would not approve of this belief." He grabbed Ram by the arms. "Please do not tell me you still fight for them." |
Startled, Ram sat up straighter, an echo of destabilization running through his bruised hands. "You remember that? How many memories did you access?" He frowned stubbornly, inclined to retort that he didn't approve of Clu either, but aware that outright rebellion probably still wouldn't be tolerated at that stage. "Um... can we have the religious discussion later?" He couldn't disguise his white circuitry, anyway. So many programs wore white for other reasons that programs who kept the faith could still flaunt it safely, as long as they didn't actually mention daring to believe. If Rinzler pressed for an answer, Ram knew that he wouldn't deny it. He feared to think what would happen when Rinzler remembered Flynn. |
"Just the one," he answered but then his rumble turned to disapproval as he realized he had been distracted from his true goal. "But I was trying to remember what we were running from... And I cannot have you repeating old mistakes that will get you derezzed!" He clenched Ram in desperation as he insisted the ultimatum. Worry flooded his circuits when he processed the soluble and it threw his systems into a degrading loop. He was actually concerned for Ram's safety. If anything happened to the actuarial program Rinzler wasn't sure what he would do. But the worst thought of all was that if Ram was found to be a threat to the System in all likelihood it would be Rinzler who was ordered to 'fix' the problem. The security program whined in protest at the calculation and proceeded to shake Ram insistently. "You will not participate in such a belief!" It was not a request; it was an order. Rinzler would not watch his only friend get derezzed over a preventable error. |
Ram trembled, his head bowing, his hands coming up to close around Rinzler's arms in turn. He'd survived this long with flippancy and circumspection; there'd been his circle of rebellious friends, who all knew what they believed in without talking about it; other programs whom, though benign, saw no reason to fight for something invisible or no percentage in bucking Clu's ultimatum; and the red guards and militant anti-User programs with whom he was careful not to get into any dangerous discussions. It had been hard, but not impossible, to move safely between the Grid's intertwining subcultures. But if there was one program he couldn't lie to about what the Users meant to him, it was this one. He'd already made the same calculations, back when all this began, about what would happen when he finally triggered a directive that Rinzler's free will couldn't countermand. Caught up in the Monitor's quest, there'd been nothing he could do except to work with it, to delay the endgame as long as possible. Some of it had even been thrilling, if only for nanocycles at a time; some of it had been extraordinary. Now Rinzler's desperate order, and the emotion behind it, was shifting everything to a different plane. Before him, the program who'd meant the most to him in the old system, whom he'd just found again, who'd been changed so irrevocably in ways his old configuration would have abhorred and who was torn even now by these irresolvable conflicts. Beyond everything, the User who hadn't been able to save him, who had reportedly abandoned them, whom he couldn't imagine deliberately abandoning anyone. At the center, himself, his faith, his freedom to care for them both. Inextricable. He'd never felt so close to his past... nor yet so far from it. "There's not much to participate in now," he said raggedly, closing his eyes. "Clu made sure of that." Edited at 2011-01-21 10:11 am UTC |
Rinzler settled back down after Ram replied, his grey eyes hidden behind the helmet scanning over Ram's features beseechingly for understanding of the actuarial program's expression. He loosened his hold on the other but did not release him. He wanted compliance from the number-cruncher. He wanted answers. But most of all he just wanted Ram to be safe. Suddenly, he leaned forward and rested his head against Ram's forehead. "Don't be sad, Ram. I'm sorry. Please don't be sad..." |
| This kindness was too much. Ram's breath hitched and he made a choked sound and clung to the Monitor, holding on for all the time they'd spent in separate cells or running for their lives or unaware of each others' existence. "I--" he gasped. "All these cycles... I thought you were dead...." |
Confusion hit the security program a nanosecond after Ram's words did. At first he couldn't compile the statement with the facts; and then he realized that something tragic must have happened at some time within those missing cycles from his locked memories. It sent a conflicting wave of guilt and anger through his system for not finding Ram sooner because of the glitchéd firewall. "I'm here," he said more on instinct than actually comprehending what he was doing. But Ram meant so much to him. "I will not leave you. Not ever again." |
Ram nodded into his shoulder, still shivering, trying to get his secondary functions under control. "Don't," he managed. "Don't blame yourself. Whatever happens. You didn't know." He probably would, though. Back in the day, Tron had blamed himself with every millicycle another program was derezzed because he hadn't found a way to escape and bring down the MCP. If he did recover his freedom and his memories and realized what he'd spent almost a thousand cycles doing, it could well be too much for him. The possibility of losing him again -- of his losing himself again, the light that this program represented dying indeed, regardless of what happened to Ram -- hammered through the actuarial program and all he could do was hold on with all the strength he had left. [[*wibbles* *so much ;;*]] |
Though he could not entirely comprehend it Rinzler felt the desperate need overflowing inside of Ram and reacted without calculating ahead, simply letting long disused subroutines to kick in and handle the situation in whatever direction they thought best. He tightened his hold on Ram in a comforting manner, wrapping his arms around the other in a protective embrace. He simply held Ram like that for a long moment as they both tried to return back to logical processes. Eventually Rinzler took a deep breath he did not realize he had needed so much before he took it. He shifted slightly, pulling back a bit so that he could peer at Ram but not unwinding his arms from around the other. "I will protect you. Nothing else," he shook his head, "matters. Will not be allowed to interfere." He took another breath and stared into Ram's eyes. "Promise." [[*holds out a box of tissue; has used several already*]] |
It seemed like a long time before Ram's thoughts slowed their frantic iterations, a few weak aftershocks running through him as the storm of contradictions sorted themselves out. The steady hold and reassuring words did more to stabilize him than any of the projections he'd been able to run. Tron had always had that faculty, had always somehow been able to embody an anchoring tie to impossible hope, and now as then, irrational as it all was in context, Ram found himself able to accept his words. You matter too, he wanted to say, but wasn't sure how it would affect the balance of directives warring in Rinzler's programming. Instead, he released a breath of his own, nodding unsteadily as his eyes flickered up to try to look past the surface of the glossy helmet, and he even got out a pained smile. You don't know how much that means. But you will. With some of the noncomputables out of the way, he was finding it easier to focus on the parts of their dilemma that could be changed. Maybe, after all, there was a way for Rinzler to hear the truth without setting off the firewalls. Maybe that would help mitigate the effects of any surprises he came across in his memories later. They could only try. [[*takes a few; yeah, definitely needed those*]] |
Rinzler was grateful for the smile even as he registered the pain within it a nanosecond later. He would have smiled back if the actuarial program had been able to see it--but he thought it a pointless gesture when it would only be hidden beneath the encasing helmet. The train of thought set a callousness to the rest of his actions. He patted Ram in a poor attempt at encouragement and leaned back as he released the other. Eventually his posture and body language indicated he'd shifted back into the more hardened Monitor. [[*dries eyes; attempts to go on through the sadness*]] |
Distracted by the newfound purpose running through him, Ram didn't really register the Monitor's change in configuration. The User issue still wasn't solved, of course, and could reemerge any time, but he had to hope that the instincts that had driven Rinzler to comfort instead of aggression would hold it at bay for a while. He didn't protest as Rinzler drew back, but held on just a tad tighter in the moment before letting him go, trying to communicate his gratitude and how much the Monitor's gesture had helped to restore him. Then, rubbing his eyes briefly with one hand, he felt ready to face the future with clarity. "Hey... would it be possible to create a new memory partition?" he asked abruptly. "Somewhere to archive new information so it doesn't try to interface with whatever you can't access yet?" |
The security program tilted his head slightly in a thoughtful manner as he processed the inquiry. "I could...create a firewall of my own to place specific memory sequences behind. That is as close to a partition as I can make on my own I believe." He looked at Ram. "What do you intend to do to me that would require such a precaution? Are you purposefully going to do something that will set off my alarms? Why?" |
"Only if it wouldn't set them off. Look...." Ram leaned in again, spreading his hands, an instinctive gesture of openness. "I know who you are now. I can guess a lot of what happened to you, a lot of the information you're missing, but if telling you would cause something like what happened before...." He bit his lip, eyeing the helmet, his expression taking on a certain stubbornness. He'd risked driving Rinzler into a second shutdown once before, but now the idea of doing it again was anathemical. "If you did that, could I tell you everything? Having a sovereign cache outside the firewall might help you create workarounds for the barred areas." |
Rinzler frowned beneath his helmet. Ram was basically telling him that the actuarial program was going to perform what was technically an illegal action in the eyes of his master. The conclusion was finally settling in that there was no other way to put it. Clu did not want him inside his own memories, for whatever reason. He'd already disobeyed his leader once by working around the firewall to access one of the forbidden files... could he really justify doing it again? Could he get away with it if he tried? The only thing that kept him from turning himself in right this moment for such erroneous behavior was Ram. Rinzler had just promised that he would keep the other safe and he meant to fulfill it. Admitting his operations for the last cycle would put Ram in harm's way; he couldn't go through with it. Ram's suggestion, if nothing else, would give him a way to keep the actuarial program safe once he returned to admit his own transgressions. He would go along with the suggestion. For now. "I could try. Give me a moment." |
It hadn't even occurred to Ram that, having come this far, Rinzler might not wish to learn the rest. In his own calculations, Clu's firewalls were illegal, unjust, something to be subverted at any cost for the sake of the program imprisoned by them; his only concern now was to find a safe way to impart the information. When it came to the method, he was willing to follow the Monitor's lead, but he would have been astonished -- and saddened -- to realize how far their objectives still diverged. Nodding hopefully, he sat back and waited for Rinzler's decision. |
The security program turned inward once again though this time it wasn't even noticeable. This he could multitask with his outside functions. Rinzler set aside a cache of unused memory space, gave it a wide buffer, and erected a quick firewall around it. Then he reached for the past two cycles and set it behind the new barrier. He waited for a reaction through his system. When nothing seemed to present itself the Monitor took the time to strengthen the firewall until he was satisfied with its security, routed his current memories to save to the protected area, and then gave it a moment. He turned to Ram. "It should work now." The Monitor's only worry now was that he had so many partitions and firewalls in his system...would he be able to keep them all straight? Would he be able to function around them all? He shook the thoughts out of his processor and waited for his companion. |
Still unaware of the complications in what had presented itself to him as a simple plan, Ram nodded. There was so much to tell. "You remember me," he said slowly. "And lightcycles, and that we escaped from -- from a Game Grid in a restricted system. We were both conscripts there. Two hundred microcycles for me, longer for you. They sent programs like us to the Games, to try and break us. You never broke." Ram knotted his hands, resting his head on them for a moment, then looked back up at Rinzler. "That was where we met." It was impossible to describe what it had meant to the other conscripts every time the security program returned alive from one of his matches: blazing, defiant, unbowed. "You were our champion," he said, lost for better words. "Your name was Tron." |
Rinzler froze the moment the last word was out of Ram and reeled as it hung in the air around them. His head lowered in a strangely threatening way as his body tipped forward and his rumble turned into a sour growl without precedence. The security program found himself lost in thought as he tried to process through the equation. Even Rinzler knew the name of the old Game Champion. He had heard it whispered amongst the programs when they thought no one was listening. If only Tron were still with us... and Tron would fight for the Creator were common phrases. He had a vague sense of knowing who the other program was through this mystical tall-tale sort of way; like the old program was a myth that gave off an air of awe but wasn't really anything more concrete than a wisp of air. He was just a vague collection of stories without a face or any real substance. Rinzler just could not recall ever having seen the other program or known him in any connecting sort of way. Which came off odd to him when he thought about it because why wouldn't Rinzler have fought him for his title? Or what happened to the other program before Rinzler had a chance to take it from him? He tried to remember his first Game and--it was little more than the same event he always went through for every Game. There was no first rival champion for him to displace; there was no time period in which he wasn't the champion at all. There were too many gaps in Rinzler's memory. He let out a frustrated growl. He focused once again on Ram, his eyes narrowing. "Tron was a dissident and destroyed for his impudence." He said it flatly, without inflection, matter-of-factly; he said it without thought to where the words came from, unbidden from his processor. Edited at 2011-01-27 09:12 am UTC |
Ram had watched carefully for Rinzler's reaction. New partition or not, it had been more than likely that the Monitor's old name would prove to be a bombshell in one way or another. The growl startled him, but he quickly realized that it must be another pre-programmed reaction to a concept Clu had considered threatening, and waited patiently for Rinzler to work it out. "I thought so too, until all this happened," he said softly. "There's a tiny chance you could be a different program from the old system, but it's really too low to factor in -- and I say that as an actuarial program. And it wouldn't feel right." He'd never met anyone in the old system as powerful and adaptive as Tron. Only Sark had come close. And Rinzler definitely wasn't Sark. |
Rinzler shuddered as Ram pronounced what he thought of as truth with such conviction. He believed the actuarial program when he said it wouldn't feel right. Everything leading up to this moment had been based on feelings rather than logic, and though it was slowly tearing him apart Rinzler couldn't deny that it was what drove him forward now. It was what kept him delving further into this mystery despite the damage it was doing to him on the inside. He reached out and lightly touched one of the circuits on Ram's forearm, hesitant as he waited for a reaction. He didn't have to wait long. There was an invisible spark between them that Rinzler--Tron?--couldn't ignore anymore; his circuits reacted in kind to Ram's and it felt right, like a bond between program and its bit. Ram was from the old system, and so was he, and it produced a sort of link between them that no other two programs in this system had. Rinzler briefly wondered if that were true. Were they the only two programs taken from outside and placed in here? Could there be more of them? Suddenly he wanted to know, as if there was something else missing from his existence that he needed in order to actually operate properly. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I believe you." He was quiet for a moment. "Now what?" Edited at 2011-01-28 02:41 am UTC |
Ram could feel the connection too: had felt it every time Rinzler got close enough. Programs recognized one another in so many ways besides visuals. Some ways were impossible to define. "The realm of the invisible," the tower guardians had called it, though there was probably some esoteric explanation that only a User would understand. It was why he could sit here before the Monitor and know, even with the helmet, that he couldn't be anyone else. Perhaps that was why he found the soft question so surprising. He'd never seen Tron uncertain of anything. Briefly discouraged, perhaps, but never uncertain. It had been right for Tron to lead and Ram to follow and fight for whatever he defended. Even Rinzler's cavalier decisiveness had felt familiar enough to register -- part of the time, at least -- as more reassuring than ominous. He'd expected Rinzler -- Tron -- to take the truth and run with it, ask more questions, choose a course, make a plan. Instead, the other program seemed... lost. And Ram hadn't even begun to tell him about Flynn yet. Maybe the partition hadn't been a good idea. "I don't know," he admitted. "There's more, lots more, but...." Now that he thought about it, there was another time when he'd seen this kind of behavior from this program. That night at End of Line, when Rinzler had paused after speaking to him, torn between looking for answers and walking away. It had troubled Ram then in the same way that it worried him now. "Are you all right?" |
Rinzler bowed his head as he processed the inquiry. "No," he said. "I do not think I am all right." He looked back up and for a second the lights on his helmet alone flashed a spark of intense distress like the eyes of a person when they glimmer briefly with strong emotion. His voice though suddenly came out firmer and more determined than before even as he admitted how lost he truly was. "This is already too much for me to process--too quick, too sudden. The conclusions that my processor calculates are warring with one another and I cannot decide which to pick. I do not-- "I am not sure who I am anymore. What my directives should be." He slumped then; finally, the truth out and it left with him an odd sense of calmness. It didn't make his warring code confuse him any less but it did seem like some sort of step forward. He knew now what was happening to him. He knew why he kept disobeying and why he yet still wanted to follow those directives he ignored. He knew why he was curious but feared the answers to the mystery he pursued. Two discs. Two identities. One program. He was Rinzler. But it was Tron who gave him his strength. |
Ram was stricken. With all his good intentions, he'd still caused Rinzler harm? Should he have noticed the Monitor's distress before, sorted it out from the inherent stresses of the situation and given him more time to reorient? Under normal circumstances, such damaging input probably would have driven Rinzler straight to Clu. In hindsight, the fact that that hadn't happened should have been a warning in itself. Somewhere in his calculations Ram had taken it as given that Tron could process anything. Could do anything. That he was still the essential core of the Monitor's programming, and if they could only free him from it, all would be well. He no longer knew what to believe. "Before, in the old system--" A spasm of sorrow crossed his face, too old to hide, especially here and now. "I used to help Users plan for their future needs." He wasn't at all certain that he'd be able to help. There'd been no Users to plan for here, and after the Purge, no need for him to analyze the effects of the ISOs on the future of the system. He'd worked in values and projections; the Users had needed him because they hadn't been individually programmed to deal with changeable, inconsistent information, the way he was. Calculating for a program's future necessities was different -- their decisions weren't arbitrary and easily redirected. Values were different; priorities were different. But he couldn't do nothing. "Rinzler...." His voice caught on the name. "Tell me about your directives. There might be a way to balance them. Temporarily, at least." [[omg awwww ;;<3333 *also hi! internet is slow here but present!~*]] |
"Priority one: protect the System from any and all harm." This was the one priority that Clu had not tampered with in any way. Either he hadn't been able to change it, so deeply ingrained within the security program as it was, or he hadn't seen a need to since as the administrator he could rewrite the parameters of what constituted as a threat whenever and however he wished. Besides, Clu wasn't stupid and in his eyes was still a loyalist to the System itself; he would have wanted it safe above all else and this was its best firewall. "Priority two: obey Clu." It was simple and straight to the point. And very precise. It wasn't even 'obey the System Administrator' but specifically indicated Clu as his master program. "Priority three: function within the current parameters set by Clu in order to create the perfect System. Secondary objective: insure that other programs follow same parameters." It was this last one that made up the majority of Rinzler's repurposed coding. Within it were several semi-adaptive subroutines that kept the Monitor functioning per Clu's exact rule. It was 'semi-adaptive' to accommodate the intelligent administrator's constantly changing concepts, ideas, and parameters. It made Rinzler the most capable and effective tool Clu had in his arsensal because, unlike the rest of the sentries and warriors and even the elite Black Guard, Rinzler had enough slack in his leash to operate on a scale that no other program beneath Clu's restrictive regime could. It also created the absolute loyalty the Monitor had for Clu. How wrong could it be to create the perfect System? To Rinzler, it was an admirable goal. "Current specified objectives: report back to System Admin with rogue program in custody; undergo system diagnostics according to Administration Sector compliances; confirm untampered systems to continue operations as normal." He glanced at Ram. "I cannot perform any of these actions if I am to keep my promise." [[Yay internet! And yes, this whole thread is ;a;. |
Ram listened intently. Some of the directives weren't so bad. He could even respect Clu's desire to create a perfect system, as misguided as he might believe the Administrator's methods and parameters to be. A system had to have order, purpose, and design; otherwise programs wouldn't be able to interact without inadvertently harming each other. As for the Monitor's highest priority, that one was pure Tron, and it was right that it should stand above all the others. Outrage spiked through him at the second directive, though he kept silent and did his best to quash it as temporarily aside from the point. Clu had done what the MCP had tried to do and failed. Tron had been written as an independent watchguard, answering to no one but the Users, and Clu had made him a slave. It was wrong in every way, but also currently non-negotiable. He held very still as the Monitor summed up. The current specified objectives were their biggest sticking point right now: situational, but more powerful for being so. The more urgent a factor was, in his experience, the more disproportionate an impact it tended to have on future conditions. Sometimes, such effects could be offset by counterbalancing them with additional factors, but that only worked for as long as the unit involved was able to bear the load. Rinzler's was heavy enough already. Briefly -- just briefly -- Ram considered releasing the security program from his promise. It would hurt both of them when the Monitor turned him in, but then he would have access to the help he needed -- if not the help Ram had wanted to find for him. Rinzler wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Clu would make it all go away. Just for a moment, the distress that he had found too easy to read from the Monitor's voice and position made that endgame seem worth it. A cascade of horror cut the concept off. Administration's diagnostics might stabilize Rinzler, but they would destroy the slim chance Tron might now have of remastering himself. If Clu left any of the memories of these millicycles with him afterwards, if there any thread of Tron's true self was left in there, it would be nothing but torture. Letting go now would mean participating in the destruction of his oldest and greatest friend. Shocked, Ram examined the logic thread that had sparked the thought. Its derivation shook him even further. He gulped down a breath, hands clenching on his knees. "I understand," he whispered. Were his vocals distorting too, or was he just having trouble hearing past the cascade? "Hold on, I... I need to think." [[ Shall I start a new thread after your next comment? ^^]] |
Rinzler nodded in acquiescence as a thick silence fell down around them. He felt extremely uncomfortable for even mentioning that if he broke his promise he could complete his assigned tasks and function normally. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way but he could tell by the quietness of Ram's response and the expression on his face that the actuarial program had processed it that way. He shifted uncomfortably as the silence stretched on and the actuarial program processed diligently. Finally, the security program could no longer stand it. "I won't," he said suddenly and with such conviction. "I won't turn you in." [*with tears in her eyes* Oh, Ram! That's so... *awwwwwww* Yes. :)]] |
2011-01-17 01:46 pm UTC