Chapter Text
I.
Monday afternoon: the orange light of the falling sun filled the rooms and corridors in the building. People were coming and going, talking loud, with stacks of paper and coffee cups in their hands. Alan Bradley was making his way toward the elevator slowly. The usual vibe of ENCOM, he was thinking while he was waiting for the door to open; he was going to miss this.
He stepped into the cubicle and the doors closed. He saw his own reflection on the surface of the shiny metal; a pale face with large eyeglasses, business casual outfit. The elevator stopped and the doors opened up. Alan walked out. It was quieter up here, on the floor of the executive offices. Framed posters were hanging on the walls: Space Paranoids, Vice Squad, Matrix Blaster and Light Cycles – Kevin Flynn’s famous video games.
“Hello, Betty,” Alan said. “Is he in the office?”
The secretary got on her feet immediately. After his unexpected health scare two weeks earlier people had become like that around him, Alan noticed, jumpy and anxious. He was the chairman of the company after all; or was the reaction genuine and people actually cared for him? Alan was not sure and soon it was not going to make a difference anyway.
“He is in,” she replied. “Would you like to sit while he comes? Can I get you a coffee?”
The door of the main office opened suddenly. Flynn must have heard them talking and he walked out with long, quick steps. He looked like as usual, somewhat disheveled, high on caffeine, with the dark circles of sleep deprivation around his eyes. Flynn reached out and grabbed Alan’s shoulder. There was the same concern on his face that Alan saw everywhere around himself since he had collapsed in his office two weeks earlier.
“How are you?” Flynn asked once they were seated in the office. In there nothing changed since Alan’s last visit: there were disassembled computers and parts everywhere. Behind the large desk a giant TRON sign was hanging on the wall.
“Well, that is actually why I am here to talk to you,” Alan replied. Flynn’s expression darkened. Were they co-workers? Yes. Friends? Not to the point where Alan would have come here to share his issues, had those not been affecting the company.
“I heard Lora is in town,” Flynn said, as if he was trying to delay the announcement for a minute.
“She flew back on Saturday. She took time off and she is staying for now.”
They were looking at each other quietly.
“I have Glioblastoma,” Alan said. “Highly malignant, not operable.”
Flynn stared at his own hands on the table.
“You need to get a second opinion,” he said finally, and his voice was like a whisper.
“I did get a second opinion. I have six months left to live.”
Alan pulled out a sheet of paper and put it on the table.
“This is my resignation from the company,” he said. Flynn did not move.
“What will happen?” Flynn asked. He seemed to be stunned.
“After my resignation period, we are moving to Washington. Jet’s school is there, so as Lora’s work. I think…”
“No,” Flynn said suddenly. He was on his feet. “There are other options.”
“I wish there were,” Alan replied. He was not even angry; perhaps he had expected this. He was facing the biggest challenge of his life and Flynn was being his eccentric self.
“We have other options,” Flynn repeated, reaching for his jacket. He seemed to be slightly maniacal, just as when he was talking about his software related ideas. “Give me some time and I will get back to you.”
With that he put his jacket on, picked up his bike keys and stormed out from his office. Alan rubbed his temple and he stood up. He looked at the TRON sign above the desk; he sighed and started walking to the elevator.
II.
Alan spent the days with the transition process; he assumed that by the end of the week he would be able to finish. Lora would drop him off and pick him up from work every day; Alan had been advised not to drive anymore, because of the possible sudden seizures. For now he felt fine, except for the heavy migraines.
Lora was composed; she would wake up at dawn to call her parents in Washington, before they would take Jet to school. Then she and Alan would have breakfast together and she would drive him to work. After that Lora would spend the day with packing; in a few days a moving truck would come for the boxes and the two of them would board a plane to Washington.
She was like that, when they first spoke about the illness that would change their lives forever. Lora must have known that something unexpected had happened, when Alan asked her to come, but he could not make himself break the news over the phone. The conversation came right after Lora arrived: he saw the cab coming, her, getting out and walking to the door with her rolling suitcase. He opened the door and they embraced. Lora put her suitcase aside and dropped her coat on the sofa, turning at Alan with an expectant look on her face. He spoke and when he finished, Lora nodded silently. Alan was stunned by her composure, until a few minutes later, when she excused herself with a blank face and she went to the bathroom. Soon after Alan heard the glass breaking inside and he rushed in. He found Lora crouched on the tile floor, with bloody marks on her face, where her nails had dug into her skin. Alan reached out in a hurry to stop her from hurting herself; but when he pulled away Lora’s hands from her face, there were strands of blonde hair, which she had yanked out from her scalp in the moments of distress. Lora looked up at him and there was madness in her eyes. It was the expression of somebody, who was seeing her world coming down tumbling and was about to tear herself to pieces in grief.
“You can’t stay,” she said later. She calmed down by then; they were sitting in the living room with their cups of tea in their hands.
“Just one week,” Alan replied. “Until I wrap up everything, I owe the company that much. I owe him that much.”
Lora shook her head.
“You would stay too,” Alan said and to that, she slowly nodded. With that, they began their last week in the city – his last week in the city, for good, Alan realized at one point.
He did not see Flynn until Friday afternoon. That was Alan’s last working day at ENCOM. Flynn showed up in Alan’s office at lunchtime; Alan’s secretary was on a break, such as the two young executives, that had been there all week, sorting out the files and making notes on the ongoing projects. Alan was sitting at the window with a cup of tea and a sandwich on a plate. By now the word has gone out and everybody at ENCOM knew about his illness – and Alan did not want the words of pity and compassion, not from strangers in a middle of a cafeteria.
Alan looked at the open door when he heard Flynn knocking on the frame.
“Come on in,” Alan said. Flynn walked in and looked over the piles of papers.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Fine, thanks. We are almost done.”
Flynn sat down across the table. Alan could tell that he had come to say something, but for now Flynn was stirring awkwardly. Alan finished his tea.
“There might be a way for you to get healed,” Flynn said finally. Alan gave him a stern look. Flynn jumped on his feet and began walking back and forth. He combed through his hair with his fingers. Alan saw that his secretary and his two assistants came back from their lunch break; they were peeking inside the office curiously. Kevin Flynn turned around, smiled at them and closed the door quickly.
“There is something I need to tell you about,” he told Alan. “I should have done it, long time ago. I understand, that you might get upset, but hear me out.”
Alan nodded, without thinking much of what would come. And Flynn spoke, of the night when he, Lora and Alan had broken into the ENCOM building, about the Shiva laser, about a great adventure inside a computer, about another, hidden civilization. He spoke of a new race emerging from a sea, about genetic algorithms, quantum teleportation. When he finished, he looked at Alan with feverish eyes.
“Are you on drugs?” Alan asked after a minute of silence.
“It is true, Alan. This will change everything. Science, medicine, religion.”
“Right. You were mysteriously teleported to the ENCOM mainframe seven years ago. And you are making the same trip more or less on a daily basis, but nobody knows about it. You claim this to be a true story, but you never told me, Lora or Walter, who had actually put the laser together.”
“I… I didn’t tell you at the beginning and later I just couldn’t… It was too late. I am sorry about that. But I’m telling you about it, because there is a way that you could be healed. There.”
Alan was looking at Flynn silently. He did not believe a word he had just heard, but he could not think of any reason for Flynn to come up with such story. He did not appear to be under the influence and while Alan knew him as fairly light-minded at times, he would not expect Flynn to be insensible enough to approach him with a lie, knowing well how much a chance to live and a crushed hope would affect his friend.
“How?” Alan asked. “By these… ISOs? Do they have medical equipment and knowledge that we don’t possess here?”
“No. These are programs, with different… no biology. There are no emergency rooms and operating theatres. What is there… numbers. Algorithms. Eventually we can be all broken down to numbers and a digital DNA. I talked to them about it and they think it is possible. To locate the disease in your… codes, and to erase it. And so, you would be healed.”
“Was there any experiment before? Have they ever tinkered with your codes? Did they ever heal you from any injury?” Alan asked.
“No,” Flynn admitted. “They do it to each other. I have never been involved. What I… we are offering, is completely theoretical and have not been tried before. But…”
“But what?” Alan asked. Flynn remained silent and turned his head away, somewhat embarrassed. Alan figured what he meant to say. “But I don’t have anything to lose. Right. Except for dying on the spot. That way I would lose that six months or whatever time I have left to live, the time I could spend with my wife and my son.”
“Yes,” Flynn replied, looking in his eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have implied that.”
“Right. You are also assuming that I actually believe in the existence of your magical people.”
“It’s not exactly something you have to believe in. The laser exists. The computer is there. I can take you there and you can observe, without making any decisions. You can enter the Grid and come back to think about the plan. You can opt the procedure out or you can come back later and go through with it.”
Alan nodded slowly.
“I will think about it,” he said. Flynn stood up.
“When are you leaving?” he asked.
“Today is my last day. We are flying out tomorrow morning.”
Flynn gestured surprisedly.
“Already?”
“I am done with the work here, and I don’t want to waste more time. I agreed to spend this week here, because I was the chairman of this company and I felt I owe you this much. Whatever time I have left now belongs to my family.”
Flynn nodded slowly.
“Come with me tonight,” he said suddenly.
“I told you, we are leaving tomorrow.”
“It would take one hour of your time. I can pick you up at your place at ten.”
Alan closed his eyes. He felt overwhelmed suddenly. He took his glasses off and rubbed his face.
“I guess…” he said. Flynn walked to him quickly and patted on his shoulders.
“Fine! I will see you at ten,” he said and he left the office. Alan’s two young helpers came in and returned to their task. Alan put back his glasses. He had a feeling that he was going to have a really long day.
III.
They spent a quiet dinner at home with Lora. Almost all their belongings were packed in cardboard boxes; Lora still managed to make the delivery food appetizing. Alan looked over the table and at the boxes in the corner. He had always known that one day he would leave to move together with his family, he had just assumed different circumstances. Lora must have sensed his thoughts, for she reached through the table and squeezed his hand.
Alan looked at the clock. It was nine; soon they would go to bed – the car would be there for them early in the morning. He could go to sleep with Lora; or he could go with Flynn to see what was behind the fantastic stories. Alan still could not wrap his mind around the tale he had heard, not quite; but it still bothered him. Had it been true, Flynn should have told them about it. The laser was Lora’s and Gibbs’ work, and Walter should have been told about the discovery before his death. And Lora, she should have gotten credit for her work; she should have been part of the exploration of that Grid. And for Flynn’s offer itself: what if it was true? What if it was a real option for Alan to live? It could have been the greatest gift for him, ever, to get his life back, to spend a lifetime with Lora and to see his son growing up. Even from a few words, Alan figured the idea, to be digitized into a computer and to remove the damaged segments – he had seen that orange disappearing from the table in that labor years ago after all. It just, science was not on that level to accomplish such task. DNA nanotechnology was laid out already; in a few years scientists would be able to create a double helix. In a few decades mathematics would be hand in hand with medicine and maybe, in a hundred years there would be such procedure that Flynn had described to Alan earlier that day, and doctors would be able to heal patients by removing the damaged code from their systems. Chances were that the history books would cite Kevin Flynn’s name as one of the earliest pioneers of the therapy.
Great peace descended on Alan. In the darkening room his own mortality felt very real, and also very natural, a part of a bigger picture. He looked at Lora, and while he was in peace - he had found his other half and he was loved back -, he was still bothered. If, if… Had it been true, if he could get a couple of more years to give his family… Wouldn’t it worth to try?
“I’m going out with Flynn,” he said suddenly. Lora gave him an incredulous look.
“With Kevin Flynn?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t know you were drinking buddies,” she said, but there was a smile on her face, the first smile he saw from her since her arrival.
“We are not,” Alan said. He was smiling too.
Flynn arrived on time. Alan took his jacket and walked out from the house. Lora was getting ready to go to bed and he was not going to be away for long anyway. Alan looked at Flynn when he got in the car, to see if he was still serious, if this was not some sort of a joke. But Flynn started the vehicle without a word and they began toward the city.
“Why are we going this late?” Alan asked.
“Because the Arcade is closing at ten,” Flynn replied.
“Wait… Are you saying that you moved your server room in the Arcade?”
“It is under the Arcade, actually…”
Alan was staring at him. They arrived to the Arcade thirty minutes after ten and Alan remembered the first time when he had come here. Not much changed since then, the brick building was standing there on the corner of the busy intersection. Flynn’s Arcade, the orange neon light was reading; it was turned off right after they arrived. They saw the last employees leaving and closing down the place. A few minutes later Alan and Flynn exited the car and walked to the building. Flynn opened the door and they went inside. The air was still warm and Alan felt the smell of popcorn.
“Come,” Flynn said and Alan followed him. There was a TRON gaming machine at the back wall. Flynn put his hand on it; the machine moved and revealed a hidden door behind.
“I swear, you are insane,” Alan said. Flynn chuckled and led the way downstairs. Alan followed him carefully, feeling the wall under his fingers as he walked. Behind him the door closed. There was not much light in the cellar; most of it came in from the street, through the windows high on the wall. It was a computer room there, with a large, touch screen desk and a monitor. On the right side it was the machine itself and in the middle of the room there stood the Shiva laser. Decommissioned years ago; but it was working, it was really working. On the left it was a sofa and shelves above that, with books, notebooks and pictures on it.
Flynn walked to the table; the touch screen and the monitor came to life under his fingers. Behind him the Shiva laser moved into position.
“You do this all the time,” Alan said. “Aren’t you afraid? You have a young son as well.”
Flynn looked at him. There was a smile on his face, an unreadable expression. Alan remembered the orange in that labor, many years earlier. He had seen the orange going away, but he had never seen it coming back. This secret room still did not prove that Flynn’s story was real – he, Alan could still die when the laser beam would hit him. Maybe he had followed a madman here.
“Why haven’t you told us about the Grid?” Alan asked. Flynn looked at the computer, trying to find the words apparently.
“I wanted it,” he said.
“But it was yours. We wouldn’t have taken it away from you.”
“My fantasy world is the new reality,” Flynn said. He looked in Alan’s eyes. “My reality.”
Alan slowly nodded. Upon Flynn’s instruction he stepped in front of the laser. He was ready for the pain, but there was just a change in the lights, when the transmission happened.
“Lora,” he whispered. He thought he was still in the Arcade, but the word would not echo in the room. Alan was alone. He turned around. The place was similar to the computer room, except it was very clean, like a labor or server room.
He looked at the laser. It was similar to its counterpart in the real world, except this was simpler. An interpretation, Alan realized, the same way his body was an interpretation of his flesh and blood body. He touched his face. It felt real. Alan removed his glasses. He was seeing blurry, as he expected, but after a moment his vision changed and became clear. Alan gasped.
Suddenly he remembered Flynn’s instructions to move and he stepped aside. He did not know how long it would take Flynn to arrive; he had been explained before that time was passing slower here. Alan walked around and examined the simple room. He heard voices from the outside, the roar of some alien vehicles and people speaking. They sounded human; yet Alan would not leave the place without Flynn to find out more about them. His heart was beating very fast. The Grid was real, and he was here, in the middle of the greatest exploration of his generation. Now there was no reason to think that the rest of the story was false – and that meant that there was an actual hope for him to heal.
The laser activated with a buzz. Alan turned there and saw Flynn being digitized. Contrary to Alan, who had come through in the same attire he had worn in the Arcade, Flynn appeared with light blue circuits on his jacket and boots. He was also wearing some sort of disc on his back. It must have been a setting programmed in the system already; Alan was left speechless.
“Come,” Flynn said with a grin. “They are waiting for us.”