A Different Place

Chapter 16 - Beautiful Dreamer

Tron grinned as she put the last crayon back into its box. Finally, her drawing was finished! She put it up against the side of her dresser, then scooted back on the fine, soft carpet to get a better view of it. The robot looked happy with its red, bulbous body flying sturdily through the air, the gun mounted on its arm pointing dramatically forward. Tron herself was in the drawing, too, riding on his shoulders with her legs wrapped around its neck. "Gustaff the Robot," it read, "by Tron Bonne, age 7."

Tron couldn't wait to show it to her mother. Tron's mommy was the prettiest lady in the entire world, and she always told Tron how good her colorings were. She'd even given Tron a new erector set for her birthday the week before.

Tron inhaled sharply. Maybe she should try to build Gustaff from her new erector set! Then he could really fly! There would be plently of cool places around Tron's big house to have adventures. She could take baby Bon on a few of them, too, but he wasn't really big enough to play with yet. At least, that was what Tron's daddy told her.

Tron tore her eyes from Gustaff as she heard someone screaming outside. And then she heard some other noises. What was going on? Tron tried to get up, but something boomed really big, and then she fell down again. "Oof!" Tron cried. She rolled over, putting her hands on the floor to help herself up. She heard a few more weird sounds from outside. Did they sound like the guns she'd seen on TV? Maybe, but not like the one Mega Man used. These were a little louder and sounded mean. And why were the lights flickering on and off? It got really dark for a minute, but then the lights came back on.

The door to Tron's room popped open, and a lot of smoke flooded in. Tron's eyes widened as she saw that her big brother Teisel was here to see her! Tron loved her brother very much, but for some reason, whenever he was around it made Tron's daddy very angry. Daddy always said it was because Teisel wasted too much time galvanizing with his friends. Wait, maybe "galvanizing" wasn't the right word, but it was a g-word, and it was big and long, too.

Teisel coughed a few times as he slammed the door shut. He was wearing a dark brown trenchcoat, even though it wasn't cold or rainy outside. Even though his long, brown hair was already starting to go grey at the tips, everyone knew Teisel Bonne was one of the handsomest young men on Marabonne Island. At least, that's what Tron's maid had told her nanny when they thought Tron was sleeping. Tron ran over and gave her big brother a hug. although she was only tall enough to give his legs a hug.

"I've got to get you out of here, Tron," Teisel said from above her, placing a protective hand on her back.

"What's happening?" Tron asked, looking up at his face.

"Ledan Mauvais is trying to take over the island," Teisel said as he took Tron's hand and led her away from the door. "He and some of his pirate allies are attacking the palace. We need to leave before they find us. My 'worthless' friends have already smuggled Bon to safety, so---" Something else exploded outside. Teisel almost tripped as the floor shook, but he caught himself on Tron's bedpost. "I think they're almost here, Tron. We'll have to go out the window."

Tron pulled away from him. "Wait!" She ran to her dresser and picked up the picture of Gustaff. "Okay, we can go now." She followed Teisel to the covered balcony just outside her window, looking over the edge. "It's so high," she protested.

"I know," Teisel said. He lifted Tron up, holding her front against him so she couldn't see. "Don't be scared," he whispered, his cheek warm against hers. She felt him step up on the short railing, then felt nothing for a few short seconds as he jumped off. Teisel's legs buckled as he hit the grassy ground, and his arms loosened as well, but he did not let Tron fall.

Teisel straightened up and carried her from the palace. As they got farther away, Tron could see that her big house was burning. She bit her thumb and blinked twice. "What about Mommy and Daddy? Are they coming with us?"

Teisel's cheek felt a little wet to her. He sniffed. "No, Tron." She heard him sniff again, then he said, softly, "I...tried to save them. I tried my best, Tron, but...sometimes your best isn't good enough."

That meant her parents were... "No!" Tron yelled, struggling in Teisel's grasp. She wanted her mother and father! She wasn't going to leave them behind! "Daddy! Mommy!"

"I don't want to leave them either," said Teisel as he snuck them through an opening in the shaped hedges. "I promise, Tron...I promise that I'll always...take care of you." His words ended in a small choking noise. "There's a boat waiting for us at the docks."

Tron began crying as well, her tears mingling with her brother's where their faces met. "Mommy!" she wailed. Her eyes stung, and her chest felt empty inside. The emptiness hurt, and it seemed as though it would never heal.

"Mommy!..." Tron screamed as she was carried away into the darkness.

"Teisel!" Tron yelled as she awoke. She rolled over in bed, smooshing her face into the plush pillow. That had been the last time she'd ever called for her mother. Tron sniffed, surprised to discover that she had, in fact, been crying in her sleep. She hadn't thought about that night in a long time.

Wait a minute. "What am I doing in bed?" Tron demanded of no one in particular. She sat up abruptly, shaking the away the last vestiges of her drowsiness. "Where am I?!"

She was in a sparsely decorated room. Her bed, the walls, and the large wardrobe cabinet were all painted an odd shade of powder blue. There was nothing else in the room, although Tron felt an ocean breeze blowing gently in from a small window. Tron threw the similarly-hued bedclothes off herself and leapt to her feet, discovering two things simultaneously. First, she realized that she had an awful, pounding, incredibly painful headache. The second was that she was no longer wearing her clothes.

She wasn't naked, not by any means. Tron seemed to be clothed in an odd kind of nightdress, one which happened to be the exact same color as the rest of the items in the room. The nightdress was strange because it looked like it was made to be worn as a regular dress. It was sleeveless, made of a light fabric that shimmered as she moved. The hem of the dress was probably several inches higher than Tron would have chosen, perhaps so high as to be scandalous. It was lucky Teisel wasn't here. He would probably have gone into conniptions had he seen Tron dressed so, though she wouldn't mind MegaMan seeing her in it. She would have like to see herself in the mirror, but there wasn't any in...hold on.

Tron opened both sides of the wardrobe, pleasantly surprised to find a mirror on the inside of the left door. Her hair was a little mussed, but it was nothing she couldn't comb out, given enough time and hair gel. She struck a couple of cute poses for herself, and admitted the short sleeveless dress flattered her, although she really didn't think powder blue was her color. The belt had a silvery buckle that drew the eye, but just enough to complement the rest of the outfit.

"Oh, no!" Tron said as she spotted the huge, glaring bruise that dominated the left side of her face, surrounding the upper corner of her left eye. She touched it gingerly, not surprised to discover that it was the source of most of the pain in her head. It figured, she thought grumpily, that she would have this ugly, ugly blemish to worry about right after she'd gotten a fairly attractive new dress...

"Hey!" Tron shouted as a thought occurred to her. "Who dressed me?!" More importantly, who had undressed her?

The last thing she could remember, she was piloting the Gustaff in combat against one of the hugest Reaverbots yet encountered. Bon had fallen over a cliff... She hoped Bon was okay. Wait a minute, even with Bon gone, she had been winning. Or, it had certainly seemed that way. Then, nothing but darkness, the dream, and now this strange room which might have been a prison cell. Was it? As far as Tron knew, she hadn't been breaking any laws this time around.

Tron looked out the small, triangular window. It offered a nice view of the ocean, and the breeze refreshed her as it caressed her face. It seemed she was in some sort of building on a high cliff, overlooking the sea. Was she still on Garrdan Island? Who was keeping her here?

Tron stormed over to the wooden door and tried unsuccessfully to open it. "Hey!" she yelled, pounding on the door. "Let me out!" She pounded for a few more moments, without any result, then ordered, "Let me out of here right now! If you don't, my brothers are gonna pound you!" Still no respone. "I mean it! You're gonna be really sorry you messed with the Bonnes!!"

Suddenly the door creaked open. A handsome young man strolled in, followed by two others. All three were wearing clothing made of the same fabric as Tron's dress, although the leader also sported a white jacket that went almost down to his knees. The two guards, for Tron had deduced them to be such by their uniforms and manner, closed the door and stood silently next to it.

"So, you are a Bonne," said the leader. Tron guessed he was just a few years older than her own fifteen. He had slicked-back black hair, tanned skin, and ice blue eyes that were only a shade darker than the walls. "I knew you were the moment I laid eyes on you."

"I'm Tron Bonne," she said irritably. "What's it to you?"

"I had to meet you," he said earnestly. "That's why I sent Guelly to catch you in the ruins. I'm sorry you were hurt, but you were putting up too much of a fight. I hope no lasting harm was done."

"Guelly? You mean the Reaverbot?!" This guy seemed polite enough, but what was his angle? Tron didn't trust anyone who locked her up, a guideline which had proven valuable throughout her career as a sky pirate. "What do you want!? Why did you go to all this trouble just to meet me? Who are you, anyway?!!"

The strange young man gripped her hand firmly and brought it to his lips. "I am Prince Gary of Garrdan Island, firstborn son of King Garland. And the reason I brought you here was...I intend to make you, Tron Bonne, my bride."

Tron laughed in his face. She snatched back her hand and crossed her arms. "Don't hold your breath, smartguy. I'll figure a way out of here sooner or later, and when I do---"

"I didn't think you would agree right away," said Prince Gary. "I know of the legendary spirit of the Bonne women. I hope you'll change your mind during your stay, which I intend to make quite pleasant." He bowed to Tron and signaled to one of the guards, who opened the door. On his way out, the prince called, "Until we meet again, fair lady." The door closed softly, though the sound of a bolt being locked into place was more audible.

Tron flopped herself back down on the bed and pouted for a couple of minutes. What a buffoon. He was fairly good-looking, though... Nonsense. She wasn't going to marry anyone who held her prisoner! "Grruuuuuhhh!!" Tron growled. This was boring. The only she thing had to do here was make the bed, but that was Servbots' work. Servbots! That's right, Numbers Two, Twelve, Fourteen, and Twenty-Seven had still been with her during the fight, but where were they now? She hoped her boys were okay...

"Can you remind me what happened?" asked Number Twelve, nearly tripping over his full bowl of noodles. "I think I forgot."

Number Two sighed. "I think you should sit down," he said. "Eat your supper and we'll go over it again." Two supposed they were lucky they had gotten anything to eat at all.

Twenty-Seven was organizing his noodles according to length. "I think we should go over it step by step, and maybe we can figure out what happened to Miss Tron."

"O--kaayyy!" said Number Two, tapping his head a few times to jog his memory circuits. "First, Miss Tron and the rest of us were fighting that biiig Reaverbot..."

"...and then it raised it arms, and we weren't able to see anything," added Number Twenty-Seven.

"Oooo, I remember that!" said Number Twelve with excitement. "And then, the floor fell out from under us..."

Number Two picked this up. "...and we fell a long, long way..."

"...and we ended up in this boring blue room, where they locked the door and will feed us, but not let us out..." continued Twenty-Seven.

"...and now we have to get out of here, find Miss Tron, and get back to the Gesellschaft!" finished Number Twelve, immensely proud of himself for remembering.

Number Two tried not to let his concern show on his face. How were they going to get out of here, or find Miss Tron? Their radios were broken or jammed---they had tried them all already. "Good job!" he told Number Twelve. "I know we'll think of something!" After all, he was the oldest Servbot here. He had to keep the other's spirits up no matter how daunting he felt the situation was.

"Roger!" answered the other two, bright, hopeful, cheery looks on their faces.