Flynn's reputation preceded him: close calls and foolhardy stunts had been his calling card even in the old system. He'd spawned legends wherever he went, and had somehow only gathered more tales of narrow escapes, not just from the virus Abraxas, or later from Clu's own regime--but maybe, just maybe, from the Grid herself. Some of that notoriety had rubbed right off on Clu, too: in distant better times, Flynn had pushed him out of his hard-coded drive for predictable, measurable outcomes and focused him instead on what was possible, even when it wasn't necessarily advisable.
His code-brother encouraged that same energy, tweaked at his competitive nature and added a potent mix of calculated insight and the vibrant challenge of dare you, which naturally Clu couldn't refuse. They were building many good things together this way: the Argon reclamation initiative, these new dwellings, the refineries to support them all--
So. If dare you was sometimes also about, say, who cycled best from in front of the handlebars, well. It worked out in the end. Most of the time.
And Gana's demeanor with them both suggested she'd had quite a bit of practical knowledge handling similar experiences.
His code-brother had saved every program on that ledge from certain destruction. He'd put a game face on his own evident suffering, and even had some spare charm for Gana's direct, forthright assessments of exactly how close he'd come to--the end of everything.
The hacker was glitching well brave enough for the both of them. They'd make it through this yet.
Clu grinned softly, wondering how best to make a gift of his code-brother's newly enforced spare time. He had the access, and certainly his code-brother had earned the right. Maybe he'd like a tour of the repair stations, rather than asset recall? Or maybe just--the chance to wander the city, free of formal tasklists for a while--see the archives, or the gardens that were just getting sorted for next-cyle planting nearby.
And as for keeping his brother out of mischief, oh. The trick would be keeping them both busy enough--not least because even now, his code-brother was able to muster a bright burst of that warm, wry amusement Clu found so intriguing.
And for the rest of it: "Mmm. Good." Not only was he relieved that the workup of the hacker's code would be available statem; Clu ejoyed a solid plan almost as much as others might like a hot meal. "Thank you, Head Compiler. Please let me know if I can provide more than," he cleared his throat, "ah, staying out of your way, and I'll do my best."
"Rest?" He blinked. Twice. Obviously, his code-brother needed it, but--but! "I--wh--"
What could he do? What could he say? Somehow he did not think but my Grid needs me or you're not the boss of me would impress her in the least. Especially not after he'd made an idiot of himself barreling down here in a rush that would've knocked lesser programs for a loop. At least he wasn't backscattering the whole operating room anymore.
Besides, she had a point: he was well overdue for sleep mode. And also, somewhat, keeping his code-brother from achieving it. Except that--someone needed to look out for him: see to it that he got his rest. Keep him out of mischief and in good working order. And most especially to keep him company.
More than that, Gana's arch slight smile and crisp, factual tone said she knew, but was not about to make either a weapon or a favor out of helping them keep their privacy. Not that they were hiding it, but. Lesser units might have pried or wheedled. She only offered, with class and dignity.
Which was somewhat more than he had managed, bolting down here half on fire.
"I can stay?" Quietly, a little surprised. He hadn't thought it was an option. Decisively, shoulders squared: "Thank you, yes; I'll stay."
That with a lift of his chin. He could be moved, but not easily.
...Except, perhaps, by the lateness of the cycle itself. He stifled a yawn--a User leftover, weird reflex that spooked some functions--and smirked over at his code-brother.
He knew, he knew, he was never hearing the end of the pointer thing. Not that it would stop him teasing back.
"I dunno," softly. "Someone's gotta protect you from yourself."
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His code-brother encouraged that same energy, tweaked at his competitive nature and added a potent mix of calculated insight and the vibrant challenge of dare you, which naturally Clu couldn't refuse. They were building many good things together this way: the Argon reclamation initiative, these new dwellings, the refineries to support them all--
So. If dare you was sometimes also about, say, who cycled best from in front of the handlebars, well. It worked out in the end. Most of the time.
And Gana's demeanor with them both suggested she'd had quite a bit of practical knowledge handling similar experiences.
His code-brother had saved every program on that ledge from certain destruction. He'd put a game face on his own evident suffering, and even had some spare charm for Gana's direct, forthright assessments of exactly how close he'd come to--the end of everything.
The hacker was glitching well brave enough for the both of them. They'd make it through this yet.
Clu grinned softly, wondering how best to make a gift of his code-brother's newly enforced spare time. He had the access, and certainly his code-brother had earned the right. Maybe he'd like a tour of the repair stations, rather than asset recall? Or maybe just--the chance to wander the city, free of formal tasklists for a while--see the archives, or the gardens that were just getting sorted for next-cyle planting nearby.
And as for keeping his brother out of mischief, oh. The trick would be keeping them both busy enough--not least because even now, his code-brother was able to muster a bright burst of that warm, wry amusement Clu found so intriguing.
And for the rest of it: "Mmm. Good." Not only was he relieved that the workup of the hacker's code would be available statem; Clu ejoyed a solid plan almost as much as others might like a hot meal. "Thank you, Head Compiler. Please let me know if I can provide more than," he cleared his throat, "ah, staying out of your way, and I'll do my best."
"Rest?" He blinked. Twice. Obviously, his code-brother needed it, but--but! "I--wh--"
What could he do? What could he say? Somehow he did not think but my Grid needs me or you're not the boss of me would impress her in the least. Especially not after he'd made an idiot of himself barreling down here in a rush that would've knocked lesser programs for a loop. At least he wasn't backscattering the whole operating room anymore.
Besides, she had a point: he was well overdue for sleep mode. And also, somewhat, keeping his code-brother from achieving it. Except that--someone needed to look out for him: see to it that he got his rest. Keep him out of mischief and in good working order. And most especially to keep him company.
More than that, Gana's arch slight smile and crisp, factual tone said she knew, but was not about to make either a weapon or a favor out of helping them keep their privacy. Not that they were hiding it, but. Lesser units might have pried or wheedled. She only offered, with class and dignity.
Which was somewhat more than he had managed, bolting down here half on fire.
"I can stay?" Quietly, a little surprised. He hadn't thought it was an option. Decisively, shoulders squared: "Thank you, yes; I'll stay."
That with a lift of his chin. He could be moved, but not easily.
...Except, perhaps, by the lateness of the cycle itself. He stifled a yawn--a User leftover, weird reflex that spooked some functions--and smirked over at his code-brother.
He knew, he knew, he was never hearing the end of the pointer thing. Not that it would stop him teasing back.
"I dunno," softly. "Someone's gotta protect you from yourself."