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thisavrou_log2017-08-27 12:35 pm
alan_1) wrote in thisavrou_log2017-08-27 12:35 pm
Entry tags:
[closed] i've seen your face in another light
Who: Alan Bradley and Clu
When: Late July, after Clu’s resurge
Where: Alan’s apartment
What: Alan has Clu’s disk. Clu (eventually) finds out.
Warnings: Involuntary memory sharing, likely discussion of brainwashing
sort;
He’s not going to edit Clu.
That was the agonizing, but final decision he’d come to after having the disk in his possession for almost three days. Given that one of his first impulses had been to open Clu’s source code and wipe it line by line until there was nothing left, talking himself down from touching the admin’s code at all hadn’t been easy. But as much as Clu had done—as much as Clu could do in the future—Alan doubts he could bring himself to go so far. Not after what he had learned when it was Rinzler’s disk he held in his hands.
Memories are a different temptation entirely. He knows they’re there. He’s seen the option enough times in the code of different programs, even his own when he himself had had a disk. Save his own, he’d never viewed a program’s memories. It would’ve been a breach of privacy, of course, not to mention a breach of trust in the cases when they’d handed over their disks willingly. But there’s no trust to break between himself and Clu. And if it hadn’t been for Clu, he wouldn’t have to search for familiar faces in someone else’s memories at all. There’s also the very real possibility that there isn’t even anyone to betray—there’s no guarantee Clu is coming back, after all.
One sleepless night, he gives up trying to drift off and retrieves the disk from where he’s been hiding it between a few books on a shelf. He lays it down flat on a table in front of him, the background hum of misgiving he’s felt since Quorra brought it to him dulled by fatigue.
It only takes a few minutes for his restraint to wear out. He places a hand on the disk and wills it to open.
return;
Alan calls in sick to work for the rest of the week. He spends the next several days poring over the memories on the disk, stopping only occasionally for food and brief, troubled snatches of sleep. The disk is still open in front of him when he hears someone at the door.
He at least has the good sense to return the disk to its hiding place before he answers it. It proves to be a solid instinct when he actually peers through the peephole and sees exactly who is waiting for him on the other side.
Previous experience has taught him the futility of trying to keep Clu out, even through the rush of panic he feels seeing the admin at his door. Of course there had always been a good chance Clu would come back. But Alan hadn’t expected the admin to announce that to him of all people. Unless he knew Alan had his disk.
Then again, if that were true, Alan would expect the door to be ripped off its hinges already. In any case, there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Alan opens the door.
“Clu.” The weariness in his voice at least helps cover for any lingering guilt or nerves. “I see they brought you back.”
When: Late July, after Clu’s resurge
Where: Alan’s apartment
What: Alan has Clu’s disk. Clu (eventually) finds out.
Warnings: Involuntary memory sharing, likely discussion of brainwashing
sort;
He’s not going to edit Clu.
That was the agonizing, but final decision he’d come to after having the disk in his possession for almost three days. Given that one of his first impulses had been to open Clu’s source code and wipe it line by line until there was nothing left, talking himself down from touching the admin’s code at all hadn’t been easy. But as much as Clu had done—as much as Clu could do in the future—Alan doubts he could bring himself to go so far. Not after what he had learned when it was Rinzler’s disk he held in his hands.
Memories are a different temptation entirely. He knows they’re there. He’s seen the option enough times in the code of different programs, even his own when he himself had had a disk. Save his own, he’d never viewed a program’s memories. It would’ve been a breach of privacy, of course, not to mention a breach of trust in the cases when they’d handed over their disks willingly. But there’s no trust to break between himself and Clu. And if it hadn’t been for Clu, he wouldn’t have to search for familiar faces in someone else’s memories at all. There’s also the very real possibility that there isn’t even anyone to betray—there’s no guarantee Clu is coming back, after all.
One sleepless night, he gives up trying to drift off and retrieves the disk from where he’s been hiding it between a few books on a shelf. He lays it down flat on a table in front of him, the background hum of misgiving he’s felt since Quorra brought it to him dulled by fatigue.
It only takes a few minutes for his restraint to wear out. He places a hand on the disk and wills it to open.
return;
Alan calls in sick to work for the rest of the week. He spends the next several days poring over the memories on the disk, stopping only occasionally for food and brief, troubled snatches of sleep. The disk is still open in front of him when he hears someone at the door.
He at least has the good sense to return the disk to its hiding place before he answers it. It proves to be a solid instinct when he actually peers through the peephole and sees exactly who is waiting for him on the other side.
Previous experience has taught him the futility of trying to keep Clu out, even through the rush of panic he feels seeing the admin at his door. Of course there had always been a good chance Clu would come back. But Alan hadn’t expected the admin to announce that to him of all people. Unless he knew Alan had his disk.
Then again, if that were true, Alan would expect the door to be ripped off its hinges already. In any case, there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Alan opens the door.
“Clu.” The weariness in his voice at least helps cover for any lingering guilt or nerves. “I see they brought you back.”
no subject
Watching Alan watch him like something that crawled across the rug is downright bracing. It's the repeat observance of something mechanical, behaving exactly as expected: he's watching failure mode and waiting for the soft crash.
"Our--yours and Rinzler's--just gave it to you?"
Interesting data. It's certainly stimulating. Nothing positive, but definitely strong. Completely unhelpful, of course, but then help is not what Clu asked for.
(Actually, he did, only Bradley couldn't accept it--couldn't bear the weight of it, not for a moment, not for anything.
Clu had filed that away deep.)
Doesn't matter now, though. Now it's clear where he's been this whole time. His own face is smirking at him from between Alan's upturned palms.
Alan's words are quiet, methodical, but the look on his face is loud--clear, clarion disgust.
Clu considers that. He smolders with it and peels back his teeth, even and bright.
"Well," slowly, crooned until it has four syllables and a descant, "you gonna give it to me, or are you gonna play with it some more."
no subject
Hearing Clu’s mocking request, Alan wishes again that the admin had just taken the disk and left. Handing it over with Clu still fuming feels much more fraught. The only real protection he has is Clu’s apprehension over Rinzler. Alan realizes with some wryness that, at the moment, it’s the only protection either of them have.
A clear all command surely wouldn’t take that long to input and he wouldn’t even have to lift a hand.
Another moment of hesitation and the display above the disk goes dark. Alan steps forward and holds the disk out flat. “Take it.” It’s what Alan had asked from the beginning, before he had time to doubt or consider alternatives. “You can check for yourself—I haven’t edited anything.” And even now, he’s still wondering whether it was the right choice.