The Killing Jar (WIP fragment)
[ Previously: Mind Over Matter // Mind Over Matter, Part II ]
"…And that reboot makes five." Cyrus doesn't even bother to look up from the disc in front of him as Beck comes reeling back to himself -- the ground spinning under his feet. "You were out of it for a while that time. I wasn't sure you were coming back. Almost had to use the patch."
He feels it then, before his eyes focus enough to confirm it. Whatever it is, it's not a normal code patch. It covers the circuit block on his chest, tracing its outline around a small silver blob in the center. Sticky, like partially-dried adhesive. The thin wiry circuits extending from the edge glow a bit brighter as he reaches for it.
And then they go sharp, sending a jagged broken-glass pain through his whole body.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to touch that thing?"
"What is it?" Beck should remember that. He knows he should. But the last two cycles are a blur, and even the parts he can vaguely recall still feel like watching someone else's nightmare. "What did you do?"
"Calm down, Beck. Right now, it's the only thing keeping you from falling too far out of sync with your disc."
Beck reaches for his disc then -- and it… isn't. There's something smaller in its place, perfectly flush with his disc port. Just like the patch, it goes sticky under his touch. Which means that the one Cyrus is currently holding is…
"Not until we know what they did to you back there. Whatever it is, it can't get a chance to stick."
"…You think they repurposed me?" Still fuzzy, but the memory is there. The blaring alarms declaring that something had gone wrong. The feeling of being shaken from sleep. The shattered glass under his feet. "But I feel… fine. Mostly."
"I think they tried. I think there's probably some very angry little code fragments trying to find something to burrow into. And I don't think they care what they do to you in the process."
"From what I've seen on your disc, I don't think you're in any position to question it. --Are you putting enough together to remember why you were in that Recognizer?"
"I've already told you what I remember. Tron was looking for someone. He didn't tell me who."
It's not a question, but Beck nods anyway.
"…You got set up -- Tron got set up. And you were dumb enough to walk right into it with him." Cyrus zooms in on a chunk of code. It looks wrong, somehow, in a way Beck can't explain to himself. "Think I heard the same rumors he did, more or less, and I wasn't anywhere near Argon at the time. And if you had to guess who Tron would go chasing after without any evidence…?"
"…So Yori was out there?"
"No. I mean, yes, that's who he was looking for. But it was all fabricated."
"Yori's been in Gallium City the whole time. Well, General Advan, anyway."
"And you didn't tell him?"
"There's not any undoing what Clu did to her, Beck. Smarter programs than I have tried. And you'd be in the same boat, if I hadn't gotten to you in time."
He says it like he did Beck a favor. For all Beck knows, maybe he did. But he could be lying. This patch -- whatever it is -- could be planting false memories, or…
"Look. Whatever game you're setting up, I'm not playing. I'm done. If you want something from us, just tell us what it is."
"Us, huh? Looks like our new friend's finally come out to say hello."
Beck's circuits run cold at the realization. "I… I don't know why I said that."
"Because it's not just you in there." Cyrus pulls up another interface on the disc -- looking for something. "And every time you reboot, we get a little closer to finding out what it is."
"How many times did you say we've done this? Five? --How long before I start…?"
"Glitching? You already are. But it won't take you down quite as far as it did when you lost your disc. Won't kill you, won't break the connection. But by the time I'm done with it, that thing in your code will wish it would. And then, you and I can finally get to the fun part."
"Whatever you want from me, you're not getting it."
"…Just did. For now." Cyrus glances at the disc, moves a few things around on the interface. "Think I've finally found where you end and the rectification code starts. Extraction's gonna be messy, but you'll be in stasis most of the time anyway."
"How can you tell what parts are mine and what they've put in?"
"Easy. You are User-written code… mostly. Rectification is all brute-forced from what's there."
"How can you tell the difference between User code and… everything else?"
"It looks completely different. And no, before you ask, I'm not showing you. Sounds like they've gotten a little more subtle with how reprogramming shows up. Harder to tell what's running the show. So until I know it's you…"
For a moment, Beck thinks about Cutler. Wonders whether there was anything he could have done different. Wonders if that's how he'll end up -- and hates that right now, his best chance at that not happening is trusting Cyrus, of all people. "…Yeah. I've seen it."
"Mm-hmm. Saw that when I was looking through your disc, making sure everything was still intact. Seems like that's what they were trying to do to Tron."
He'd been acting strange, after all of it was over. Beck tries not to think about it. "…What happened to him? Did he--"
"I don't know. I was kind of busy. --Six now, by the way."
"…And you just left him."
"Like I said, I was busy. It was him or you. You're welcome." He studies Beck for a long time in silence. Looking for something, but Beck doesn't know what it is. "Sit down. This next reboot isn't going to be clean."
It takes longer to come back online, without Beck to speed up the process. Circuits shivering in some grotesque parody of a program's boot sequence, flaring orange just to rub it in.
At least the code patch is still holding, not that Cyrus is inclined to doubt it.
"…There you are. I was wondering whether we were ever going to get to meet."
"I don't know what you're talking about." It doesn't do a good job of imitating Beck. It would be funny, if it wasn't so pathetic. So incorrect. "We were just talking a few ticks ago, weren't we?"
"Sure you don't. Wasn't a terrible impression of Beck, before. But he was still running then -- what did you do, hijack his runtime? Probably didn't even feel it. But I knocked him offline, and he's gonna stay that way for a while. Took the database down, too. So now it's just you… whatever you are."
"Y'know, if anything, you should be glad I'm here. I could be more help to you than he would be, alone." It taps the force barrier, shifts its weight just a bit -- settling into itself now, having been found out. "I am Beck, though. Just a little different. A little… better."
"By whose definition? Clu's? No thanks."
"By yours, I think. Because let me think this through for a tick. He's impulsive, he's irrational, he has too many attachments, and tries too hard to hold onto a double life he can't possibly keep up while focusing on the end goal that actually matters. Right?" There's something bright in its eyes for a moment then, fading too quickly to be genuine. "You said it yourself, I don't work without a runtime. I'm not here to replace him. I'm here to improve him."
"And make him perfect. Yeah, I know the drill."
"Well, probably not now." It makes an attempt at a smile. Too rigid, even as its voice sounds uncannily like Beck. Standing straight, eyes fixed on something just behind him. "No offense, but you're kind of a bad influence."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere." Cyrus pulls up Beck's core code again with the decompiler -- or tries to. Nothing works right anymore; little bastard's changed all of his defaults. Given the damn thing training wheels. "Maybe you will be helpful, though. I was hoping to get to see their new reprogramming methods up close -- that's what I was doing out in Tron City, y'know. Looks like I'll get to pick it apart. Haven't gotten to do that in a while. That's going to be fun."
"Alright, so you kill me, tear my code apart… and then what?" It's thinking, trying to pull information from what's left of Beck's database. Watching him adjust the settings on the decompiler, like it's jogging something into place. That data-seek pulsing pattern in the circuits is something Cyrus hasn't seen in macrocycles, but doesn't seem to have changed much. "Take it back to Gallium, just like old times? Signal would probably be happy to see you. Somebody has to be, I guess."
"Nice try, but… no. They're dead, for one thing." And it is, in some semi-direct sense, his fault. He keeps telling himself he's made peace with it. Someday he might even believe it. "Have been for a long time."
"Yeah?" It produces a data chip from one of the storage cells in Beck's suit. "You sure?"
The chip won't open if Beck is offline, of course… if it's really Beck's, and not one of the myriad blanks that must be upstairs in the workshop. But the ID will still come up with an admin key.
And this thing that is not Beck, this unholy abomination of mangled code, laughs at him.
// Connected to SIGNAL//NOISE //
// Data chip was set inactive by signal!0x00 on 1994-10-13.
==============================
/goto signal!0x00
==============================
// noise!0x01 >> signal!0x00 //
// signal is offline (last seen 62 microcycles ago)
// Because you have admin permissions, you can use '/notify' to send an out-of-band alert.
noise:
> Ping.
// signal is now active.
// signal is typing…
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/leave
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