Certainly their union had come with its ups and downs--its crises and triumphs large and small--both on the Grid and here in the outer world. (He still didn't like to think of their new home as 'the real world'; information was real. Light was real. Electricity was real enough to kill, and most of his existence had been mostly those, for an amount of time that would have made their coworkers dizzy, had they believed in it--nearly thirty outer years, but almost two thousand in the machine.)
From that vantage point, their handful of analog years were a new and dynamic lifetime together, and they had certainly made it work. They made it fit and fit themselves to it, in turn, and if they'd had a rocky start--they had built, oh. A radiant life together, the slim gold band on his hand a reminder he cherished to no end.
Adding Frank to the mix had been--unplanned. Spontaneous. Wonderful. Someday they might be able to tell him all of it. And even if he never followed them to the Grid, still they had brought him all the way on, part of the team in this as in everything else. For Frank to have christened it 3 of Hearts Games felt--good. Felt right, and he was planning to frame the napkin that held the original logo Frank had sketched out, just as soon as he could sneak it away safely. He might need his code-brother's help, to preserve the surprise.
Privately Clu still worried about the paperwork, even though he'd checked every line four times by hand, and then grilled and drilled their poor paralegal about it twice. But at last they were in it for themselves--making something that mattered, and something that mattered to them, and it felt very special to be crafting something creative together with their mutual skillsets.
So far, all of it was coming together on schedule. Except of course for the code. The nightmarish, slagging, impossible code. They were technically moving along, when it worked, but--
He did unit testing! For a living! How. Was. It. This. Hard. To. Animate. A. WALK. CYCLE. AND THEN COLLISION TEST IT?
It was true. His code brother had warned him this might happen, and now it was happening.
Clu groaned, flat on the table, deep and wordless, until every molecule of air had left his lungs. And for the glorious memory of how easy he had thought this would be, he sucked in a great big breath and did it again. Was he exaggerating? Maybe a little. Maybe he wanted to see if he could at least coax more laughter from their latest current disaster.
"I know," he wheezed sadly, still sprawled but gradually arighting himself. "I know you did. And, man, you were not kidding."
But he lit up instantly for break, alert as a pop-up. One day he would learn to rest without his code-brother's prompting, but it was not this day.
"Oh, he has to be having better luck." Users grant he was having better luck. Somebody needed to be. Fingers crossed. "Besides, I'd love to see what he's got."
Did that hold the thrill of challenge, an edge of flirtation, or both? It was definitely both, and a secret third thing that felt suspiciously like--hope.
In short: he was in a better mood than he had been for almost an hour, and entirely looking forward to being treated to the results of Frank's efforts.
no subject
From that vantage point, their handful of analog years were a new and dynamic lifetime together, and they had certainly made it work. They made it fit and fit themselves to it, in turn, and if they'd had a rocky start--they had built, oh. A radiant life together, the slim gold band on his hand a reminder he cherished to no end.
Adding Frank to the mix had been--unplanned. Spontaneous. Wonderful. Someday they might be able to tell him all of it. And even if he never followed them to the Grid, still they had brought him all the way on, part of the team in this as in everything else. For Frank to have christened it 3 of Hearts Games felt--good. Felt right, and he was planning to frame the napkin that held the original logo Frank had sketched out, just as soon as he could sneak it away safely. He might need his code-brother's help, to preserve the surprise.
Privately Clu still worried about the paperwork, even though he'd checked every line four times by hand, and then grilled and drilled their poor paralegal about it twice. But at last they were in it for themselves--making something that mattered, and something that mattered to them, and it felt very special to be crafting something creative together with their mutual skillsets.
So far, all of it was coming together on schedule. Except of course for the code. The nightmarish, slagging, impossible code. They were technically moving along, when it worked, but--
He did unit testing! For a living! How. Was. It. This. Hard. To. Animate. A. WALK. CYCLE. AND THEN COLLISION TEST IT?
It was true. His code brother had warned him this might happen, and now it was happening.
Clu groaned, flat on the table, deep and wordless, until every molecule of air had left his lungs. And for the glorious memory of how easy he had thought this would be, he sucked in a great big breath and did it again. Was he exaggerating? Maybe a little. Maybe he wanted to see if he could at least coax more laughter from their latest current disaster.
"I know," he wheezed sadly, still sprawled but gradually arighting himself. "I know you did. And, man, you were not kidding."
But he lit up instantly for break, alert as a pop-up. One day he would learn to rest without his code-brother's prompting, but it was not this day.
"Oh, he has to be having better luck." Users grant he was having better luck. Somebody needed to be. Fingers crossed. "Besides, I'd love to see what he's got."
Did that hold the thrill of challenge, an edge of flirtation, or both? It was definitely both, and a secret third thing that felt suspiciously like--hope.
In short: he was in a better mood than he had been for almost an hour, and entirely looking forward to being treated to the results of Frank's efforts.