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Fanworks: Tron: Fics: Delay Deny Derez
Summary
Ram learns something about insurance companies.
Ram wants to fight for the Users.
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-Delay Deny Derez-
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"No. Just... no."
Ram stared in horror at the screen full of statistics-- half unwilling to believe it-- the other, more pious half reminding him, this is the wisdom of the Users.
"Yeah. Sorry, pal."
There was genuine sympathy on Flynn's face-- a sadder look than Ram had seen in all the time since Flynn had rerezzed him. Maybe even a little regret. When he'd begged Flynn, grinning, eyes sparkling, to grant him this field-trip out through the laser, to show him around the wondrous and mysterious Realm of the Invisible-- he knew Flynn had been hoping to be the bearer of happy things. Not.. this.
And there had been happy things! Sunrises, a trip to an amusement park, popcorn-- but along the way, there had by necessity been warnings, too. Don't walk there, you'll get hurt. Don't eat that, you'll get sick.
And this, of course, led to questions-- what do "sick" and "hurt" mean in this world? Who repairs and debugs you; how does it work? Show me--
--and then, things had started to get enlighteningly, terribly... connected.
"I'm... really, really sorry. You shouldn't have had to find out from me. But... yeah, this is what insurance companies actually do, buddy. Whatever they've told you, about how your job was all helping folks plan for future needs... I'm sorry, but it's... well, mostly very much... not as nice as they made it seem."
Ram's eyes traced the overlapping curves of probability functions and the equations that tied them to premiums and copays... tallying up the numbers that he now realized had meant barely anything to him when he'd been just an actuarial calculation program.
When he'd been a fool. So clear now, after one day in the User world, how they corresponded to amounts of money that innocent Users couldn't afford... negative bank balances... probabilities of deresolution. Of death.
His eyes narrowed. A User body was difficult to connect to the reference points of Program life... but the adrenaline of anger now felt like an urgent error warning in his code, demanding something be fixed.
"How can I stop it?"
"You can't, pal. I'm sorry, but... none of us can. It's big. And it's gonna just get bigger, and worse. For years and years."
"And then what? Something has to happen, right? Like the MCP! Growing and growing until-- he couldn't grow forever. When it gets big and bad enough, someone stops it."
"Maybe," Flynn said, but he sounded doubtful.
"I want to be the one to stop it." Ram was almost shocked by the words coming from his mouth-- but he realized, as he spoke, that he had never felt a deeper conviction than the one settling into him in this moment.
"Why you?" Flynn's face hurt to look at-- such a kind sadness. "Man, just because you worked for the insurance company, doesn't put you on the hook for it. Not your fault. You were their program, written for them. You had no idea, no choice--"
"And that's why. They-- they did to me what the MCP did to all the warriors. Made me cause deaths-- made me hurt and kill... gave me no choice. You know what that felt like! They made you do it too!"
A darkness came over Flynn's face, but he said nothing, only nodded slowly.
Ram's chest vibrated with this strange User heartbeat, quickening. "And you and Tron, you got to kill the MCP. I never got my revenge. And-- I want it now. Or--"
Then, humbled by Flynn's earlier words, stumbling now on Flynn's insecurity about whether it'd ever be possible, even for a User... Ram finally, heartbreakingly, faltered.
"...Or maybe not now. I want it-- I want it when it will be possible. And when it can do the most to help the Users."
Flynn was quiet a long time. Then, as if the words ached, he began to speak.
"Okay. You're right, Ram. You deserve to get the closure we got. And you're a good guy-- a really good guy-- being willing to wait for the best time. Can tell already you've got better planning skills than I ever had."
"It's in my programming. Actuarial math. Probability calculations. I'm for planning for the future."
"Point taken." Flynn chewed on his lip, staring into the distance. "And I mean, I've got ideas about the future too. They're just kinda a mess, y'know? I mean, I'm really sure that the way corporations are going, they're gonna get worse. Worse and worse until... well, you are right, something's gotta give. But the way Users are, we have trouble coming together against a common enemy. Even when we all hate something, we get bogged down in the bureaucracy of what to do about it. We don't want to make rash decisions, and we argue for years over which decision is the safest and best-organized, and nothing gets done--"
"I'll make the rash decision for you, then." Truth was settling firmly, deeply into place, somewhere within Ram's center.
"How..." Flynn faltered, a wary look on his tilted face. "How do you mean?"
"I can wait. I can be a program again. It can be another copy of me, whatever, but somehow, whatever it takes, I want it to be me. You can store me on a disc, keep me-- leave me to your children if it takes that long-- but leave me with instructions, okay?"
"What... what instructions?" That look on Flynn's face was almost fear, and the thought of that was almost painful, but Ram pressed on.
"That when the Users need it the most-- when they're divided and torn apart by the most fighting and disagreeing-- when they're all unhappy but struggling harder than ever to come to any agreement on a good safe solution, through all their elections and lawmaking and all the usual good safe channels-- then? Then you rez me back out here, and I will do the rash, unsafe thing. The disc in the MCP's neck. One fast, hard attack at my own MCP-- the one everyone hates, but the one nobody thinks they can stop. Let me be the symbol that gets them united."
And yeah. Flynn's eyes definitely had fear in them now-- but also, exhilaratingly, awe.
"You... you know attacking powerful people is dangerous."
"I'm good at planning, Flynn. And I'm a program. I can go back into the computer. I can vanish without any trace."
"You sure?" Flynn took a cautious step forward, the awe more visible now, and oh, Ram could get drunk on that. "You're handsome and charming, pal. People will remember you."
Ram nodded, arms folded, the compliment only feeding his certainty. "Yep. I'm counting on it."
"...Okay." Flynn sighed, held out his hands. "Fine. Sure. We can plan all that tonight. Any more world-shattering things to demand of me while we're at it?"
And then Ram grinned-- the thrill of this was too much to keep that somber look on his face anymore.
After all... there was popcorn and sunlight and rollercoasters to enjoy, still. And regardless of the scary and awesome future, Ram was still Ram, and Ram was someone who had fun. You just couldn't take that from him.
So he stepped forward, grinning like sunlight of his own, and clapped Flynn on the leather-clad shoulder.
"You shouldn't be the only one who gets to have a cool jacket. C'mon. Let's go shopping."
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Fanworks: Tron: Fics: Delay Deny Derez
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