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Fanworks: Tron: Fics: Watchdog
Summary:
When Tron was copied for the New Grid, his original copy stayed behind to continue being ENCOM's security software.
But he's not able to handle every infiltrator.
And it's driving him crazy.
Inspired by this Tumblr conversation:
https://www.tumblr.com/astercontrol/726545458706661376
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Watchdog
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"Relax," Yori murmured.
Tron stared out over the pristine layout of their garden, the graceful statues and crystalline data formations that he usually loved so much. "I can't relax, Yori. I am this system's security monitor. There is a malware attack in the ENCOM system that I cannot figure out how to stop."
She folded her arms. "Is it? Is it really malware though?"
"What else would it be? It's running all over the place. Even getting into the Users' desktop file database-- which means that whatever it is, it's causing something to appear on the computer screens of ENCOM employees! You tell me what that could be, other than malware!"
"Update? Announcement? New game? I don't know." Yori shrugged, half-laughing. "You tell me what sort of malware activity it could even be capable of, based on what you've scanned of it so far."
"I don't know, Yori! If Flynn still corresponded with us, I could maybe ask him! But he won't answer-- he never answers-- not for cycles and cycles, ever since he copied me and ran off with the copy to build that 'new' Grid-- I don't know who else to ask, don't know what else I can do..."
"And what about Alan-1?"
"Alan-1 is not on call a hundred percent of the time, Yori. He calls me at specific times and I go to the I/O Tower and report to him, and the next time that's due to happen is more than a microcycle away! What do I do until then?"
"Well. You could try and relax. Since, as far as we can tell, this particular 'malware' is not actually causing any problems."
He turned to her, his eyes almost desperate. "Have you seen it, Yori?"
"Yes. It ran through our yard earlier this microcycle. It didn't harm anything."
Tron's mouth gaped open. "Did you get a good look at it? Notice anything about it? Anything at all that I might be able to use?"
"Calm down, Tron! I... it looked a bit like one of those simple little behavior emulators in that new game, the ones I saw them testing out in the design database last millicycle."
"The... which ones? Which game?"
"Oh, what was it..." She waved a hand. "DeskPets? EncoDogs? I don't know. Anyway, it looked harmless. It was kind of cute, really."
"Yori, it is not supposed to be here! Whatever it is, it has escaped containment, and it is running loose in places it shouldn't be, and so unless proven otherwise I am required to consider it a threat--"
"Ooh, look! There it goes now!"
A black-and-white blur zoomed across the yard... stopped near one of her abstract statues... and turned around, aiming its flat, bug-eyed little face back at them, tongue dangling out.
Tron drew his disk.
Yori winced, but backed off to give him space.
He stared down the creature for several picocycles as he lined up the shot. It stood still on all four of its short legs, its only movement the rapid back-and-forth of the antenna-like thing on its back end.
But when he let the disk fly, the creature launched into a run, faster than he'd imagined it could go.
He missed by far too much, the disk sailing far over its head, the little mystery-program vanishing into the distance.
"You're off your game," Yori observed, returning to his side. "If your reflexes were at optimal performance, you'd have hit it, easy. You need a break."
"I haven't been able to rest, because of that thing!"
She stroked a circuit down from his shoulder. "Do I have to trick you into accepting some stress relief, Tron? Do I have to do the thing where I seduce you into it, by turning it into roleplay about whatever your current obsession is? ...Imagine this is the Users' desktop file database. We're here, and where you want to go..."
He grabbed her wrist, gentle but firm. "I am not in the mood."
"Then you're going to have to do a self-diagnostic." She rested her other hand softly over his. "Because if you are going to catch that thing, you need to find out what's compromising your reflexes. You should have made that shot. Something impaired you. Better check to make sure malware hasn't infiltrated your functions."
Eyes widening in horror at the possibility, Tron sat down hard on one of the garden benches, lapsing almost instantly into a deep self-diagnostic routine.
Yori watched him, a soft smile on her face, until he came back to awareness.
But Tron remained sitting there, stunned, staring down at clasped hands in his lap.
Slowly, Yori went to sit beside him.
"Did you find something?" she asked.
"Yes," Tron murmured. "Remember last cycle?"
"Last cycle..." She tried to think back to things that might have upset Tron, back then. "Oh! The midi file!"
"Yes. Remember how I said I should've caught that? Someone hacked in past ENCOM security and made a midi file of 'Don't Stop Believin'' play on every ENCOM desktop and I didn't stop it. And it wasn't even very good hacking! I should have caught it and I never figured out why..."
"You were an absolute mess, for millicycles afterwards. I couldn't talk to you about anything."
Tron looked up. "I know why, now."
Yori held his hand. "Go on."
He let out a sigh. "It felt like Flynn."
Her hand tightened on his fingers. "You think Flynn is doing these things?"
"I don't know. But the motivation's there, in my most subconscious subroutines. I... deep down, I let him win. Because of how it felt."
"How did it feel?"
"Like..." He tensed, then just said it again. "Like Flynn. It doesn't have his exact signature. But it feels like him."
"And what was that like?"
"You know..." His eyes closed in a look of almost-pain. "You know how it felt, under the MCP. When the free system was restricted. And how it felt when it became free again."
"Yes."
"And you know it's been... slipping back, lately. Little by little. Freedoms getting taken away, here and there."
She nodded, solemnly.
"Well. This felt like... again, not exactly like, but a little. This felt like just a little taste of that moment when freedom came back. When Flynn helped."
Yori opened her mouth to reply... but a strange, low-pitched noise interrupted her. Both of them looked up.
The little black-and-white program was standing right in front of their bench, looking up expectantly, wagging the antenna-thing on its backside at a frantic speed.
In its mouth was Tron's disk.
"It... shouldn't be able to do that," Tron said, almost inaudibly.
"Well." Yori reached down to take the disk. The creature growled and pulled for a while, but finally let her disengage the thing from its jaws. "If it is from Flynn... or someone like him, trying to help bring back the free system... then there's nothing to worry about, right? I mean... the midi file didn't end up harming anything."
Tron accepted the disk from her hand. "I suppose not."
"And if your subconscious subroutines won't let you treat it as a threat, I'd say we should trust your instincts. I'd say this is a friend. Hey, you might even be able to work together with this hacker. Right now he's not doing harm. But with your active help, instead of just passive permissions... he could do real good. Like... making some of that information free that's behind paywalls. For instance."
The creature made an impatient little yelping sound, its buggy eyes laser-focused on the disk in Tron's hand.
And Yori saw a real, genuine smile spread across Tron's face, for the first time in far too long.
He stood up, disk raised, and flung it out into the distance, toward nothing in particular. The little infiltrator program leapt up in utter joy and zoomed off after it.
"Can I keep him?" Tron said, grinning as he watched.
Yori pulled him into a hug. "We'll name him Mal."
Fanworks: Tron: Fics: Watchdog
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