Tron Legacy - It's Your Call - Initiate Sequence Read online

  Copyright © 2010 Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number on file.

  ISBN 978-1-4231-4978-1

  Visit www.disneybooks.com

  Table of Contents

  Instructions

  Prologue

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

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  In your hands you hold an object of great power. It has the ability to alter the course of history. The choices YOU make with this item will impact moments in time, fateful events, and could even mean the difference between life and death for those closest to you.

  As Sam, will you grab hold of your father’s legacy and become a hero to many in a digital world beyond imagining? OR will you turn your back on his dreams and end up living an ordinary life in the real world? These and countless other choices are yours to make. Will you initiate a new game?

  IT’S YOUR CALL.

  You are Sam Flynn, son of the brilliant computer genius Kevin Flynn. He became a billionaire by inventing new technology, awesome software programs, and video games galore. In fact, he created one of the most popular games of all time: Tron. Then, when you were seven years old, he disappeared.

  At first there was a lot of speculation: was he in seclusion working on his next great digital breakthrough? Was there foul play? Or was it something much less interesting, but far more upsetting—he simply abandoned you?

  That was twenty years ago.

  You had stopped thinking about all this a long time before. You never cared about Encom, the multibillion-dollar company you inherited. You just let the CEOs handle it. You don’t bother showing up at board meetings or putting in any time at company headquarters.

  Except once a year.

  Once a year you make a very unconventional appearance. You perform a crazy, risky, stomach-dropping stunt. And you just pulled off another doozy.

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  You grin as you hurtle along the dark streets on your motorcycle, heading for home. This year’s prank totally rocked. The expressions on everyone’s faces as you leaped off the top of the Encom skyscraper? Priceless! Adrenaline still pumps through your veins as you remember the swan dive…the whoosh of the air…the sudden snap of the parachute as it opened.

  You’re seriously stoked. Even that little brush with the cops when you landed was completely worth it.

  You cruise through a junkyard near the docks. A series of large shipping containers sits on a barge accessible from the wharf. That’s where you’re heading.

  You park your bike. “Home sweet home,” you announce as you enter through a garage door and step into your shipping-container apartment.

  Marv, your dog and closest friend, barks a greeting. You absentmindedly kick the crumpled ghee-and-yellow belt out of your way as you cruise by the mats you have set out for your martial-arts training sessions.

  Flopping down on the sofa, you stretch out. You glance at your father’s classic motorcycle up on blocks in a corner. “Really need to finish that rebuild job,” you mutter.

  Marv suddenly starts barking. You look up to discover a man standing in the doorway.

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  The man is Alan Bradley. You’ve known him your whole life. Before your dad pulled his famous vanishing act, Alan was his business partner.

  “What are you doing in my apartment?” you ask.

  “You don’t answer your phone,” Alan replies simply. “How have you been?”

  You roll your eyes. “You know, when I was twelve I might’ve appreciated the whole surrogate-father thing. But come on, Alan. I got it all under control now.”

  He eyes your messy apartment and your stunt-disheveled appearance. “Clearly,” he says drily.

  Alan walks to the large window at the front of your apartment and gazes across the river at the illuminated Encom building. “Nice view,” he comments. “Heard you just did a triple axle off her.”

  When you don’t respond, he continues. “Also heard you sent the last batch of dividend checks to some interesting causes.”

  You scratch Marv’s ears. “The dog park? That was Marv’s idea.” You sigh and look at Alan. “Are we going to do this again? Really? Do I look like I’m ready to run a Fortune 500 company?”

  “No,” Alan says. “And the board is pretty happy with you staying out of things. But I must say, you sure have an interesting way of being disinterested.”

  Enough small talk. “Why are you here, Alan?” you repeat.

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  Alan’s expression becomes more serious. “I promised you if I ever got any information about your dad, I’d tell you first.” You stare at him, stunned, as he pulls out an old-fashioned pager.

  “I got a page last night,” he explains. “From the arcade. A number that’s been disconnected for twenty years.”

  This is too weird. Suddenly you feel all fidgety.

  “Two nights before he disappeared, he came to my house,” Alan continues. “He was talking about genetic algorithms, quantum teleportation. He said he was about to change everything.” He gazes at you, his face full of compassion. “He wouldn’t have left all that. He wouldn’t have left you.”

  His words rattle you, but you quickly recover. “You and I both know he’s either dead or chilling in Costa Rica. Probably both.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry, man. Let’s do this again in a couple of years, okay?”

  Alan pulls an old set of keys out of his pocket. “These are the keys to the arcade. I haven’t gone over yet. I thought you should be the one.”

  “You’re acting like I’m going to find him sitting there working,” you say.

  Alan grins. “Wouldn’t that be something.” He tosses the keys at you. You catch them out of reflex.

  After he leaves, you stand gazing down at the keys, uncertain.

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  You stroll through the aisles of humming games, recognizing all your old favorites. Memories flash through your mind. You finger a quarter in your pocket. What should you play? You stop in front of a game you spent hours on—Tron. You pull out the quarter and search around for the slot.

  As you reach to insert the coin, it slips from your fingers. “Sheesh!” you mutter. “That’s my only one.” Dropping down to retrieve the money, you notice major scuff marks on the wood floor. It looks as if the machine has been moved—a lot. You grip its sides hard and move the game away from the wall.

  Your eyes grow wide. There’s an opening hidden behind the game! You step through and find a secret stairway.

  Heart pounding, you descend the narrow, dust-choked stairs. You reach the bottom and face double doors. You take a deep breath. And then you swing them wide open.

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  The guy in that ship above the court seems to be in charge. You have to convince him that there has been a big mistake.

  You race across the court until you’re just below the ship. You wave frantically. “Hey!” you shout. “You, up there! You need to stop this game! Yoo-hoo! Hello? Yo!”

  The masked man’s face tips down toward you. Great! You got his attention. You cup your hands around your mouth, hoping he can hear you. Maybe the arena is miked? Well, no matter what, you have to try.

  “I don’t belong here! I’m not one of these …” You sweep your arm to indicate the other players. “I’m a person! I’m not from here! You have to—”

  Swish! You feel the breeze of your combatant’s disc as it rushes by your head. That was close.

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  Your heart sinks. But you can’t be distracted.

  The green rider on your team is up ahead. Thousands of fans whoop and cheer, eager for the action to come to them.

  Clu is fast on Green’s trail. You lag behind them, watching as Clu pulls up beside Green. He reaches over to Green’s throttle and revs it. Your jaw drops. There are no fouls called in this game! Anything goes!

  The sudden rush of speed sends Green spinning out of control toward the edge of the track. He strikes the bleachers and is sent sprawling. He derezzes when he hits the ground, and his bike flies into the stands. There’s total chaos as the fans scramble to get out of the way, but it’s no use. Dozens of screaming programs derezz.

  Clu is ruthless, you realize.

  You have to take him out.

  You fall in beside him, and you both accelerate. The crowd howls excitedly. Every time Clu tries to pull ahead you match him move for move. Wham! He rams you, sending your Light Cycle spinning toward a light wall. Just at the point of impact, you leap off the bike.

  Clu bears down on you. His Light Cycle speeds up, and like a swordsman on horseback, he unsheathes his disc and prepares for the kill.

  Do you fling yourself out of the way? TURN TO PAGE 15.

  Do you pull out your own disc? TURN TO PAGE 44.

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  The next morning you go to the lot to see if you can find the guys. Tyler is there, and so is Luke. There’s a girl with them working on Luke’s bike. “Hey!” you call as you come to a screeching halt. You hop off the bike and join them.

  “What’s up, man?” Tyler says.

  “Looks like I’m finally going to need an actual job,” you say.

  “Harsh,” Luke says.

  “Yeah. But I thought if I could do something with bikes it wouldn’t be so bad. You’ve seen my moves. Do you think I have a shot at stunt riding?”

  Tyler narrows his eyes, studying you. “Could be.” He looks over at the girl. “Hey, Jax! I’ve got a newbie for you!”

  The girl wipes grease off her face with her T-shirt. “You want to do stunts?”

  “I do,” you tell her.

  “This grease monkey is my sister Jax,” Tyler explains. “She’s a stunt coordinator on a film shooting in town.”

  She rattles off a list of questions. “Got nerves of steel? Good reflexes? Strong upper body?”

  “I’d say yes to all three,” you say.

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  Your hands open and close around the keys. Then you slip them into your pocket and cross to your bookshelf. Reaching out, you pick up one of the action figures on the shelf.

  “Clu,” you say, announcing the name of the character from one of your father’s games. “Stands for ‘Codified Likeness Utility.’” You shake your head and replace the figure. You remember the bedtime stories your dad used to tell—all about how he made it inside the computer system and back out again. They were exciting tales. Clu had been an important character in them. He had been made to look like your dad, so the action figure has your father’s face—in miniature.

  You dust off Tron, another figure wearing an armorlike outfit. Your dad’s stories made Clu, Tron, and all the other characters seem like real people. You grin at the U-shaped vehicle known as a Recognizer. It used to serve as your night light.

  You haven’t looked closely at these toys in a long time. They’ve just always been there. You spin around and stride back to the window and stare at the blinking Encom building.

  You shove your hands into your pockets and feel the keys again. What should you do?

  If you decide to go and check out the arcade,

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  If you decide to forget the whole thing,

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  Huh?” you say, confused.

  “Gopher. As in ‘go for,’” she says. “So go for my coffee. When you get back, I’ll need you to make some copies and fax them to the office.” She strides away.

  “She doesn’t need any more caffeine,” you mutter as you scan the area, looking for where you might find coffee. You spot a catering truck and jog toward it.

  This is totally bogus, you think, kicking a rock out of your way. You wanted to use your motorcycle skills, not your ability to carry a cup of coffee. This is as bad—worse—than working with Encom. At least there you’d be the boss. Sort of. Even if you’re not sure what that means exactly…

  You refill the thermos and reluctantly start back across the set. You see a stunt guy who’s going to handle the motorcycle trick. You seethe with envy. He’s not any better than you on a bike! In fact, you’ve given him pointers! So unfair.

  He waves you over. “Listen, I really have to go to the bathroom,” he says urgently. “Can you guard the bike? I can’t leave it unattended.
I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure,” you tell him. He rushes away. An idea forms…. You and the stunt guy are dressed alike. You’re the same build. You can rock the stunt, you’re sure of it.

  Should you try to pull off the stunt yourself?

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  Or should you just watch the bike and then bring

  Jax her coffee. TURN TO PAGE 46.

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  It’s okay,” you assure her. “We’re safe now. We’re on some kind of solar ship heading for the Portal.” Quorra takes a deep breath and releases it. “Clu has Flynn’s disc?”

  You nod. “Once I get out, I can shut him down.”

  “I should never have sent you to Zuse,” she says, frowning. “That was a mistake. I should have known he might have changed.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve made plenty of mistakes myself,” you tell her.

  “Where is your father?” she asks.

  “He said he’s ‘knocking on the sky …’”

  “‘And listening to the sound,’” she finishes for you.

  “I guess you’ve heard that one before,” you say.

  “I’ve heard them all. I’ve been with him a long time. He’s changed since you’ve come here,” she adds. “He had lost hope and now…Well, I haven’t seen him like this in a long time. It’s…nice.”

  You and Quorra stand on the deck of the solar sailer and gaze at the brilliant pillar of light signifying the Portal up ahead. “Some view,” you comment.

  “It’s how I imagine a sunrise must be,” Quorra says. “Something I’ve always wanted to see.”

  Your father suddenly stands. “Get below. Move,” he orders.

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  You’re not in the mood to try to figure out some weird game. Just being in the arcade’s secret lab gives you a bad feeling. You hit no.

  The console begins to rumble under your hands. A high-pitched wail comes from the game speakers. It almost sounds as if the game is…crying. You could swear it’s moaning “why?”

  You stumble away from the desk as it rattles and shakes. “I didn’t mean to insult you!” you shout. “Don’t take it personally!”

  You stare as the shaking grows violent and the desk starts moving toward you, tipping from side to side on its legs.