ROUND 4 IS CLOSED
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“It is not… great” she said. “It’s different. Much more information at the same time. But time itself passes much more quickly and this gives you the sense of waste, that you are missing something.”
“It can be beautiful, especially the nature. That we don’t have here, plants and animals, mindless living organisms. The city is different, more like the system with its lights and sounds. And there is the sky which is rather similar to the new sky-scape of the Grid.”
Quorra looked at the empty disc port on Tron’s back. Only stray programs were wandering without discs - lost creatures that could not get updates and repairs. Not that it mattered; Tron did not have a programmer anymore. She fought back the urge to put her hand to the place where the once dreaded twin discs had been before.
“There are no limits” she went on. “In doing something, indulging yourself in something. In work. Entertainment. In food… that means energy. They manage it though. I guess a program could do it too: a program that has a certain purpose, a real designation. I failed at it.”
She fell silent; she could not believe what she had just done - complained to a program that had been forced to go against his original purposing for a thousand cycles. One should expect a program to learn some modesty all along a considerably long life, Quorra thought, but it seemed like she had not picked up a thing. She was thinking about running away, out of the cave; and while she was contemplating about that, Tron turned around slowly.
Quorra stared at him, alert. Tron did not do anything else, just turned on his other side and now was facing her; although his face was hidden behind the black helmet. Something occurred to her for the first time.
“Can you speak at all?” she asked. She did not really hope a reply, she was even more surprised at raspy, automatic voice came that came out from the audio output of the helmet.
“…can.”
The pale blue light of the baton reflected on the smooth surface of the helmet. Quorra suspected that despite of the response the program’s speaking ability was rather limited. Her gaze wandered away and she saw that the circuits on Tron’s right hand were flickering. The material of the glove was torn at several places and the damage affected the circuits as well; the skin was pixilated under the cracked gloves. Already appalled by the extent of the injury, Quorra suddenly realized that the tears were bit marks and must have been self inflicted.
“Your poor hand” she cried out. How forcefully, she thought, one should bite down to tear off that material, how painful it should be to cut a circuit like that. What kind of thoughts should be there that could not be silenced any other way, just by an intense physical pain like this.
There was a soft, disapproving sound, not more than a tut. Quorra looked at the impassive, dark visor. How badly she had wanted to come this close, so many cycles ago and when she had done it, unknowingly, all they had exchanged had been kicks and punches. After all that her burst seemed to be quite insincere. Tron began to turn back onto his other side.
“Memories” she said. His motion slowed down and the program stopped, lying on his back. “Of life. Death. Living like this. Next to the empty house, but lying on the rocks. Feeding from the shallow spring and not taking anything from the abandoned stocks. Falling apart bit by bit, not asking for help. For memories.”
Tron started to growl. It was similar to Rinzler’s menacing purring; only just there was no other sign of threat, no other reaction. It was like a warning, for her to be careful about what she was going to say.
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The growling stopped abruptly. She nodded.
“And the first times. When the Grid was without form and void, and darkness was upon the
face of the deep. And the first programs, being born. The first buildings, emerging; the origins. The same tale, all the time, again and again. Up there, in the User world they are killing each other, destroying other living beings, the place that was entrusted to them, with whole intent. With whole intent. And they are forgiven. Then why wouldn’t you be forgiven for things, that you were forced to commit?”
There was silence. Quorra was kneeling without a stir - Tron was lying on his back, his hands resting next to him.
“Users believe that their soul, their essence survives when their bodies derezz. We don’t have souls, but as they use to say, the energy level of the system has never changed, not even in the darkest cycles. Programs derezzed, but the complexity of the Grid has grown. What else are we supposed to think than they never really left, that they are still around? And I don’t want it to be else way. I want to believe that the one who gave his life while smuggling me out of the city, knows that his sacrifice was worthy. I want my fellows to be in peace, because if nobody else, I surely survived and Flynn’s plan will come to fruition. I want to believe, that despite of all the suffering and loss, we can overcome our mistakes and evil intentions and finally prevail. I want to believe, that in a way everything happened as it was supposed to, that there is a reason why we are here now.”
She closed her eyes. There was a veil of tension that lifted and dissolved. Quorra looked up. It was a blank moment; bearing the same lightness as the end of an ISO gathering, when, after getting rid of the waste of misunderstandings and hard feelings, they had been dismissed. It was redemption. She turned back to Tron. His posture was less tense now. Quorra leant ahead, crossing the circle of rocks for the first time.
“Don’t freak out” she mumbled as she was reaching for the trigger of his helmet. She, on the other hand, was frightened to see what was beneath the dark plastic; and was almost surprised to see the very same face that of her memories. He was tired looking and worn out - but those were the same features that’s appearance had meant safety for any program on the Grid before Clu’s takeover.
Tron was looking at the ceiling of the cave and then at Quorra. He was calm, almost relaxed. She fumbled through the rocks. The wiping was done; she wanted to make the new start blissful - for herself as well. At the same time she was ready to jump on her feet and leave… escape… in case her figures were not going to add up, if she was not going to be welcomed.
Quorra put her hand on Tron’s left wrist and ran her fingers all the way to his shoulder. He looked at her with initial surprise; then his gaze softened. Encouraged, Quorra touched his arm with her other hand too - it was barely more than a stroke, but her fingers stayed connected with his body, not losing the contact. Her hand wandered up to his shoulder and to his neck, to change course after some exploration and to fall on his chest. Tron opened and closed his eyes. It was tranquilizing; the place was silent, and they were in the tiny circle of the blue light, as in a bubble. The energy was growing and heating the small, shared personal space.
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I think if anything, it was the Legacy movie's huge mistake: not saying anything about the ISOs, except for Flynn's short recall. Why exactly are we supposed to believe that the ISOs were indeed special? We don't know anything about them. Worsening the case, in the Betrayal, that was supposed to focus on that era, we also don't see anything about that assumed greatness - they much rather gave me the impression of being arrogant and proud of... what? I like Quorra a lot, but I kind of fail to recognize that superior wisdom behind her actions as I think she made horrible decisions throughout the whole movie (sending Sam to Zuse, surrendering herself on the carrier ship).
Generally this is the reason why I have been interested in putting this story together and of course because of the pairing that I have not read about earlier. Though I am very slow because of RL duties, the ending will be posted shortly.
Thnak you!
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When she opened her eyes she saw that Tron was looking at her. It was a detached, still gaze, typical of the program that she knew so well through others.
“Life” she said and this time there was no denial; instead of that there was a hand on her hip. Quorra smiled to herself. There was nothing commanding or constraining in the touch; it was just… trusting. That trust was not to be betrayed - because he was going in a different direction: toward returning to the city, being repaired and restored, toward getting back the life that had been taken away from him. She was wondering, if it would feel for him as going home or it would be like a new beginning. If meeting his User for the first time would be sublime or would they shake hands as friends that had not seen one another for long.
Now the energy was flowing freely under her fingers. It was an airy, yet exciting feeling which made her indulged and focused at the same time. She saw that it had the same effect on Tron as well; saw it in his eyes that became gloomy, the way his lips parted. Quorra lifted herself and straddled him. Tron’s other hand came to rest on her thigh. Still avoiding those wounded limbs she slid her hand along his sides and down to his waist. His eyes widened as energy pulsed through his body, through both of them.
With those wary hands on her thighs Quorra continued tracing the curves of Tron’s armor. Her careful touches strengthened the sweep of power; the same power that made his circuits glow bright and soon she started to sense the tingling feedback through his caressing hands that were moving slowly. It was an intense, clear energy, free from reminiscence and abashment. It connected to her sensors and her eyes widened from the sudden wave of pleasure: he strained beneath Quorra at the same time. The interlocking of their circuits generated intense charge that was hard to take: she was watching Tron as he was trembling under her; his fingers dug into her skin.
Jaw clenched she closed her eyes slowly and there came the images, brought to the surface by the exchange of energy; the Grid, under a smooth, black sky. It was glowing, but still it was under construction, not long after the Creation. She/he was standing on the rock, overlooking the plains, the place that was soon to be the home of millions of programs. Turning her head she saw two other figures standing aside: a young Kevin Flynn and… an exact copy of him. Reliving that long passed moment Quorra did not immediately recognize Clu, not with that proud and guiltless grin on his face. Her sight turned back to the view of the city and she realized what she was given: a piece of the Creation, shared with the best friends, one of Tron’s happiest memories.
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Almost snarling from the pleasure Quorra felt embarrassed: this would be her happiest memory? Then it became clear for her; it was not her happiest moment, it was the one she wanted to give Tron - an instant of that other world, another way of life, a different universe in what he had believed even when it had been prohibited and had cost him so much. His expression became still and his hands rested on her waist. Quorra felt a sharp sting in her eyes; had she been in the User world, she would have cried now.
The light of the baton dimmed as the tool went to standby. She leaned ahead; they were lying there for a while. They could have moved; the deal was done and the gaps were filled - but they stayed still.
No other words were exchanged. Tron was crouched on a cliff as she was getting in her light runner. She left the batons, the bottles of energy and the map behind. Quorra looked at the silent figure once more before she started the vehicle: no promises had been made and no plans roughed out. She did not need any of those; his want to be whole and serve those in need was evident for her. Soon.
The headlights of the vehicle were jumping from rock to rock and the road was winding ahead. The city was glowing in the distance as a gem on a velvet pillow. Getting back to the Arcade she found Alan Bradley closing the office and about to leave for the portal.
“Had a nice ride?” he asked. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes” said Quorra. “I’m ready.”
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I put the link to the latest topic too, so when people read it they would see the the prompt got filled - no obligations or pressure on you for any kind of refund.
Thank you again!
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