Tron Legacy (3 page)

THE JUDGE HAD SPOKEN
. Sam was taken away and tossed into a room with four life-size statues of women. He blinked in astonishment when the beautiful “statues” came to life. They were Sirens from his dad’s game! Their white unitards glowed alluringly, and they looked as though they had been carved from pure marble.

“Uh,” Sam said, “can somebody tell me what—”

The one Sam assumed was the leader—lifted her finger. The tip glowed with a stark white light. The Siren touched his lips, and Sam fell silent. Then she ran the finger along his chest, and the light cut his clothes away, as if it were a surgeon’s scalpel.

“Whoa!” Sam protested.

The Siren ignored him as two others returned bearing formfitting armor. They touched the plates to Sam’s legs, torso, and arms. The armor clung to his flesh as if magnetized.

Then the Siren raised her glowing finger again.

“This can’t be good,” Sam said.

She ran her finger along Sam’s armored joints, sealing them and trapping him inside. Arcs of plasma surged through the plating. Sam’s newly electrolyzed flesh tingled.

Finally, another beautiful Siren approached Sam. She carried a circular metal disc the size of a dinner plate. Silently, she inserted the disc into a groove on the back of Sam’s armor.

Sam’s head felt like it was going to explode. And rightfully so. Unbeknownst to him, a powerful processor inside that disc had begun downloading the contents of his mind.

“Mirroring complete,” the disc Siren droned. “disc activated and synchronized. Proceed to the games.” She stepped back into the shadows and froze, statuelike once more. The two others joined her, and all three became motionless again.

Sam faced the head Siren. “What do I do?” he asked.

For a moment, it looked as though she might be sympathetic, as though she might actually help Sam get out of this waking nightmare. But then she spoke. Her answer was one word: “Survive.”

A door opened and the floor moved, carrying Sam forward and then straight up a dark chute. He rose and when he could see again, he was in the middle of a vast arena.

Looking around, Sam realized he was standing on a raised platform—one of eight. The platforms were huge circles. Each was separated by a deep abyss. Sam looked down into the black pit beside him. He couldn’t see the bottom.

Thunderous applause greeted Sam’s arrival. Scanning the arena, he saw thousands of programs sitting in the stands. They weren’t just clapping for him. They were clapping for all the contestants—and there were sixteen of them.

The competing programs eyed one another. Some seemed used to their surroundings, and Sam guessed they were vet-erans of the games. His suspicions were confirmed when those programs dropped into a crouch, waiting for play to begin. The frightened newcomers, on the other hand, shifted nervously. Sam quickly mimicked the seasoned players and dropped into a crouch, too.

Just then, a robotic voice boomed: “The Leader has signaled the start of the games.”

Leader? What leader? Sam thought.

Cheers erupted from the audience, and Sam focused. Across the court, his opponent pulled the disc from the back of his armor. A helmet immediately formed over the program’s head, and then a visor covered his face, making him battle-ready.

“Yo!” Sam called, realizing the opponent looked familiar in his gear. “I have a three-inch version of you on my action-figure shelf!” Maybe fighting him would be as easy as playing with toys.

Maybe not.

The disc in the progam’s hand began to glow. Then the program hurled the disc so fast it singed Sam’s hair. Without missing a beat, the disc returned to the thrower’s gloved hand like a high-tech boomerang.

The game was officially on. And Sam needed to stay focused.

Just then, a big, bearded opponent threw a disc. But this one wasn’t aimed at Sam. This disc was heading for the terrified program on the platform at Sam’s right.

The glowing disc hit the quivering program square in the chest. It exploded into thousands of tiny squares that bounced across the court like shattered glass.

“Program three derezzed,” the robotic announcer calmly declared.

Sam swallowed hard. He was freaking out now, but he refused to show it. I can play this, he told himself. Plus, I can’t derezz…I don’t think.

Taking a moment to get his bearings, it occurred to Sam that he had an advantage. He had played a game just like this before—Tron! First level. Single-elimination round.

I can beat this level. I’ve done it already.

Sam reached behind him for his disc, but it stuck in its sheath. Uh-oh. His opponent threw again. Sam ducked just in time and finally freed his own weapon.

“All right, here we go,” Sam said, as the visor instantly closed over his face. Now he was battle-ready! He fired his disc.

His opponent dodged Sam’s throw and tossed again. This time the disc hit the platform, shattering it under Sam’s feet.

Sam yelped as he fell. With one hand he managed to grab the crumbling edge. He caught his returning disc with the other.

“So that’s how it is,” Sam muttered, pulling himself back up.

His opponent made a huge leap, jumping right onto Sam’s broken platform. Standing over him, the program raised his glowing disc like an ax.

“I don’t think so!” Sam slammed down his own disc, striking the platform at his opponent’s feet. The platform shattered, and Sam’s opponent fell into the black abyss.

“Program nine in the pit,” the announcer declared.

Shaken, Sam dropped to one knee. He was safe for a moment.

Suddenly his platform moved until he was facing off against the big, bearded gamer, the one who’d derezzed that terrified program.

“Hey, wait!” Sam called. “Can I get a time-out?”

The bearded program charged, letting out a guttural scream.

Forget this! Sam thought. He took off, running across the platform. ducking the bearded program’s throw, Sam slid to the edge of the platform and slipped off!

Hanging over the edge, Sam saw another platform shifting just below him. This was his chance. He let go, falling through the air, just as he had at the Encom Tower—only this time without a parachute.

Sam landed hard, banging into the platform. The program already there looked over. It was a fatal error. distracted by Sam’s arrival, the program was instantly blown apart by a foe.

“Program seven derezzed,” the announcer said.

The bearded program leaped after Sam and gave chase. Sam scrambled to get away.

Just then, Sam realized the other platforms were moving closer and closer. Finally they banged together, fusing into one massive gaming court. The arena lights lowered.

This was the final contest. It was Sam versus the big, bearded, angry program.

HIGH ABOVE THE ARENA
, the rectifier hovered like a menacing moon. On the bridge of the airship, the Leader sat slumped on his throne.

Dozens of view screens filled the bridge. Each broadcasted a different angle of the games. But the Leader showed little interest in the fate of the programs. The dramatic images fluttered past his gaze like so much pixilated confetti. He had seen it all—many, many times before.

With the Leader’s features hidden behind a mask, not even Counselor Jarvis knew whether he was watching the screens. Then Sam derezzed the bearded giant, and the Leader sat up and leaned forward.

Jarvis noticed his master’s sudden interest. Curious, he turned to an Intelligence Sentry. “What is that program?” Jarvis asked, pointing at Sam.

With his attention trained on Sam, the Leader shifted two black balls in his gloved hand. Jarvis noted the move. That single, innocent signal triggered the entry of a deadly new contestant.

“Rinzler has entered the arena,” the announcer informed the crowd.

As cheers went up, Sam watched the sleek, black-armored Rinzler enter. The face of this warrior program was completely hidden behind a dark visor. He drew his disc, and it instantly transformed into two metal weapons.

“Come on!” Sam shouted. “Is that even legal?”

Rinzler threw with both hands. The discs closed in on Sam. He leaped at the last possible second, and the discs careened off each another.

A warning siren wailed. A hologram of a giant arrow appeared above Sam’s and Rinzler’s heads. Then it began to turn. Amazingly, the gravity in the arena shifted with it!

Helpless, Sam felt his body crashing against a translucent dome that now covered the entire arena. Rinzler was dropping on him. He tried to get out of the way, but there was nothing he could do.

Sam cried out as Rinzler’s boots landed on his forearms and one of the discs sliced his skin. Pinned, he was helpless as Rinzler raised a disc for the killing blow.

Just then, a drop of blood oozed from the wound in Sam’s arm. The globule leaked through a crack in his armor. Beading like mercury, the single drop hung in the air for a moment before dripping, then bursting like a scarlet balloon.

Seeing the blood, Rinzler froze in midstrike. Confused, he lifted his visor-covered face toward the rectifier overhead.

In answer, a voice boomed out. “Identify yourself, Program.”

The electronic voice was not the announcer’s. It was Counselor Jarvis who’d spoken.

“I’m not a program!” Sam called in reply.

Another voice spoke, one that sounded oddly familiar to Sam. “This is your Leader,” the man said. “Identify yourself.”

“My name is Sam Flynn!”

The crowd began to murmur.

Up in the rectifier, the Leader turned to Jarvis. This was interesting. very, very interesting.

Below, Rinzler stepped back as two Sentries appeared. Lifting Sam to his feet they led him off the combat court. Then sheathing his deadly discs, Rinzler followed.

THE SENTRIES DRAGGED SAM
up to the command bridge of the rectifier. They tossed him to the deck in front of their master’s throne.

Sam glanced around. “Where am I?”

The Leader walked up to Sam. Activating a switch on his helmet, his dark mask dissolved, revealing his face.

Sam staggered backward. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t be…“dad?” he croaked.

Sam was staring at his father, who looked exactly as he had when Sam last saw him twenty years ago.

The Leader smiled. “Sam! Look at you. Look at the size of you. How did you get in here?”

Sam felt numb. He swallowed. “I got your page,” he whispered, “and…”

“So, it’s just you?” the Leader asked pointedly.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Just me.”

“Just you!” the Leader said, sounding relieved. “Wow. This is something, isn’t it?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to become suspicious. How could twenty years have passed without his father aging a day. “You look…the same, dad.”

“But a lot’s happened, Sam,” the Leader explained. “More than you could ever imagine.” He extended his hand. “The disc.”

Sam winced as Rinzler yanked Sam’s disc from the sheath on his back and handed it to his master. The Leader opened the disc and gazed into it, as though reading a book. Sam watched as billions of bits of information about his life were downloaded into the Leader.

“Got it,” the Leader said, looking up. “But I expected more.”

“You were trapped here. Is that what happened?” Sam asked.

“That’s right,” the Leader replied vaguely.

“But you’re in charge?” Sam said, puzzled. “So we can get out of here now, right?”

The Leader shook his head. “Not in the cards, Sam. Not for you.”

“Why not?” Sam asked. “I’m your son!”

“Oh, that.” The Leader placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You see, Sam. I’m not your father. But I am very, very happy to see you.”

Not my father? How could that be?

Suddenly Sam put it all together. The Leader looked like his father because Sam’s dad had created him to look the same!

The Leader was really that very special program called—

“Codified Likeness Utility,” Sam breathed. “You’re…Clu.”

Clu smiled slyly and nodded as if to say, “at your service.”

Sam’s shoulders sank. Just when he thought he had found his father…

“So,” Clu said, grinning. There was a wicked gleam to his eye that Sam couldn’t help but notice. “You like bikes, Sam?”

Just like that, the rectifier lurched and plunged downward. Before Sam could react, Sentries grabbed him again. They dragged him back to the ship’s hangar. Clu and Jarvis followed.

The ship landed in the center of the sprawling game grid. The hangar’s bay doors opened, and a long, red-carpeted ramp slid out.

Jarvis descended the ramp first. A moment later Sam and the guards followed.

“Greetings, programs,” Jarvis began, his voice filling the arena. “What an occasion we have before us. Today we have a user in our midst. For the first time since our liberation!”

The crowd cheered.

Sam’s heart beat faster. User?

“Better still,” Jarvis continued, “this particular user happens to go by the name of Flynn!”

The crowd stopped cheering. For a moment, they went silent. Then they began to boo and catcall.

Why? Sam thought. What did my father do? Why do these programs hate the name Flynn so much? But if they hate him, they had to also know him, right?

“Who better to battle this user?” Jarvis asked the crowd. “Perhaps someone who’s had experience in these matters…”

At that moment, Clu strode down the ramp, a glossy black cape flowing behind him. The cheers began again. And over that wall of noise, Sam could hear Jarvis still chattering on.

“Yes, programs. Your luminary. Your leader. The one who vanquished the tyranny of the users so many cycles ago. I give you…Clu!”

As Clu passed Sam, he smirked. “Sorry about your dad, kiddo.”

Sam couldn’t contain his rage. This thing was nothing like his dad. He reached for Clu, but the Sentries restrained him.

Clu raised his arms, basking in the crowd’s adoration. “I wonder,” he said, “would this user allow me the honor of a challenge?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “You want to play, Clu? I’ll play.”

Jarvis stepped forward and opened an ornate box. Two glowing batons rested inside. Clu chose the yellow stick, and Jarvis handed the white one to Sam.

“What do I do with this?” Sam asked, waving the white baton like a sword.

“Not that,” Jarvis replied with no compassion.

A section of the floor opened, and four gaming programs rose up. Sam didn’t know the purple, green, or yellow combatants. But he recognized the teenager holding the aqua baton. It was the young program he’d first seen on the recognizer, the one who had warned him to keep quiet. This, it would seem, was his team.

A loud whine drew Sam’s attention. Two Sentries in silver gray Light Cycles raced toward him.

“You’ve got no chance, user,” the purple program told Sam with a sneer.

“Their cycles are faster than ours,” the green program warned.

The Sentries blew by the gamers a second later. Their Light Cycles left a pair of neon light walls in their wake.

Then, as Sam tried to get his bearings, Clu shed his cape and jumped. In midleap, the baton in his hands transformed. It became a black Light Cycle—like a motorcycle that encased Clu’s entire body. It was as if Clu had become one with the bike.

With a powerful whine, Clu raced off.

“Now this I can do!” Sam cried, leaping. He squeezed the baton.

When he hit the grid surface, Sam found himself encased inside a two-wheeled Light Cycle. Beside Sam, the other colors jumped into their vehicles. Together, they roared off after their opponents.

Purple easily caught up with the Sentries—too easily, as it turned out. One Sentry zigzagged across the grid lines, leaving a barrier of solid light in Purple’s path.

Too close to veer away, the purple program struck the barrier and derezzed instantly into bouncing glasslike cubes. Sam zoomed through Purple’s debris a half-second later.

Those walls of light are lethal, Sam realized.

Another Sentry tried the same trick on Sam. But seeing a ramp to his side, he cleverly swerved down it.

Clu took the corkscrew ramp at high speed. The yellow program tried the same maneuver, but he crashed and shattered. Sam’s team was falling apart!

On the lower level, Sam felt a thump. The first Sentry had found a ramp, too, and came down right beside Sam. Another Sentry closed in from the rear. They were trying to sandwich Sam between them.

As the Sentries tried to squeeze Sam, he aimed for another ramp ahead. Just like on the freeway back in his own world.

Sam shot forward, losing the Sentries. But then he noticed another Sentry closing in on the aqua program.

Sam tried to help the young program. He zoomed off a grid line, and his Light Cycle shot into the air. Aiming his back wheel, the Sentry crashed into the wall of light left behind. Smash!

The aqua bike surged forward! Sam had saved his teammate!

He hit a corkscrew ramp. Two more Sentries appeared and tried to cut him off. But Sam outsmarted them, and they smashed into one another!

Now Sam was catching up with the aqua program.

“We’ve got to work together!” he called out.

The aqua program nodded.

“Okay, follow me,” Sam said.

Racing forward, Sam caught up with another Sentry. Aqua moved to flank their foe, but the Sentry bumped Aqua and he spun out.

Aqua’s Light Cycle shattered like glass, but the program was thrown safely clear. Proud that he survived, Aqua raised his arms in triumph.

Clu saw that the young program was off his Light Cycle. revving his own cycle, Clu shot down a ramp and struck the teenager head-on. The kid instantly derezzed.

No! Sam thought. But he barely had time to react. Clu had skidded into a full circle and revved his engine. A moment later he shot forward, bearing down again—this time on Sam.

Above the whine of the Light Cycle’s power processors, Sam could hear the audience cheering.

I’m the last one left, Sam realized. It’s him or me now!

Sam kicked his Light Cycle up to full speed and took aim. With the crowd cheering and shouting, Sam made a final, suicidal charge at Clu.

Clu raised his disc for the deathblow.

Sam freed his own disc, its deadly sharp edge gleaming in the blue-black light.

Something else was gleaming, too. Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw a vehicle burst out of a hidden ramp. He recognized it immediately.

“A Light Runner,” Sam whispered in awe. It was the bonus vehicle from the final level of the Tron game.

The Light Runner had a razor-sharp nose that cut through the grid as it moved, splintering it. Behind the Light Runner, a path of rock-hard crystals created a deadly wake.

Sam watched the Light Runner cut right in front of Clu’s cycle. Clu tried to swerve, but it was too late. His cycle struck the runner’s crystal wall and exploded into spiky shards. Clu bounced helplessly across the grid, with bits of his armor breaking off as he flew.

The crowd gasped.

The Light Runner circled Sam and halted beside him. A hatch opened.

“Get in,” a voice told Sam.

Sam didn’t know what to do. He looked inside the hatch and saw a driver behind the controls. But he couldn’t see through the driver’s dark visor.

“Get in…now,” the driver insisted.

With no better choices, Sam collapsed his Light Cycle back into a baton. He leaped into the Light Runner’s cabin and settled down beside the driver. The hatch closed, and the vehicle made a 360-degree turn.

Across the grid, Clu got back on his feet as the rectifier settled to the ground beside him. Jarvis walked down the ramp.

“Flynn lives,” Clu told his second, his voice full of barely contained fury—and worry. “It has begun.”

Jarvis waved a thin hand, gesturing for the pursuit cycles to get moving. With a thundering roar, the black cycles raced after the Light Runner.