Tron Page #3

PROGRAM (RAM)

Welcome to luxury living.

The new captive looks up, nervous.

CROM:

Uh, thanks, but... I don't even know

what I'm doing here.

RAM:

You believe in the Users?

CROM:

Sure, if I don't have a User, then

who wrote me?

RAM:

That's what you're doing here. Master

Control Program's been snapping up

all us programs who believe...if he

thinks you're useful, he takes over

all your functions so he gets bigger...

an' if he can't use you, he sends you

down here to the Game Grid to get the

bits blasted outta you. What's your name?

CROM:

Crom.

RAM:

I'm Ram. They'll train you for

the games, but ... well, I hope you

make it okay. Hey, what's going on

in the other sectors? I've been stuck

in this Grid for 200 microcycles.

He points to several hash marks on his cell wall.

CROM:

It's murder out there. You can't even

travel around your own microcircuits

without permission from that Master

Control creep. Hauling me down here to

play games...who does he calculate he is?

(holds his head in his hands)

If only Tron was still around...

He looks up as Ram makes a NOISE under his breath. Ram has a strange,

still expression on his face.

CROM:

You ever see that guy in action?

Hundred-percent independent. MCP

couldn't tell him what to --

He stops. Ram is looking over his shoulder.

CROM:

(continuing)

What's wrong? What did I say?

There's a slight noise from cell beyond Ram's.

CUT TO:

24 THE FIGURE AT THE WINDOW 24

It turns slowly, silhouetted by the light from the outer corridor.

25 CLOSE UP - CROM 25

reacting. He GASPS and stares.

CROM:

Oh my User...Tron--they've got

you in here?

26 SHOT FROM OVER TRON'S SHOULDER 26

with Ram to one side, smiling slightly, and Crom staring.

TRON:

Not for long, friend.

CUT TO:

27 ELECTRONIC WORLD - EXT. PATHWAYS - SOMEWHERE FAR 27

OFF IN THE SYSTEM

Here in a maze of complex pathways, we see a lone tank moving along

one of the paths.

28 INT. TANK 28

A lone program sits at the controls. His armor is worn and beaten

and his glow subdued. This is CLU. With his thermos of glowing

coffee and his suicide-jockey manner, he reminds us of a truck

driver on an all-night run.

CLU:

Think we can merge into this mem'ry

okay, good buddy?

A spot of glowing light zips around the tank, stops and expands

into a solid glowing green sphere with the suggestion of a face as

it speaks.

BIT:

(eagerly)

10-4!

As soon as it is finished speaking, it goes back to being pure light.

CLU:

Now, ol' Flynn said to look over

in here ...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes