"Come on, my bike's around here," Sam says, and leads her over to a cycle that's either half derezzed or done in the strangest style she's ever seen. Ducati, says the writing on it, and she remembers Flynn and Sam discussing it.
"I don't have a cycle baton on me," she says. "What will I ride?"
Sam smiles and pats the cycle as they reach it. "Don't worry," he says, "she can take two. We'll see about getting you one of your own later. They don't really handle as much like lightcycles as you'd think, but I bet you'll get the hang of it fast."
Sam slings a leg over the cycle and beckons her to follow him. She settles herself carefully behind him, pleased that her balance seems unchanged in this world.
"Lean forward against me," Sam says, and she shifts until they're stable together. "Hang on and move with me, but not too much."
Sam's body feels hot like an overloaded circuit where she wraps her arms about him. Flynn used to feel like that, she remembers; she hadn't realized just how much he must have slowly cooled over the kilocycle of his exile. It's a mournful thought, and she's glad when Sam revs the cycle and kicks them into motion.
The cycle runs dark, only a few lights in front of Sam and a larger one illuminating the dark ground they're traversing. The buildings around them are small and unlit. Still, it's always good to be moving.
"So," Sam calls over the growl of the cycle, "we get you a birth certificate with your mother listed as Radia Iso, right?"
"What's a birth certificate?" she calls back.
"It's the first i.d. a User gets when they're born," Sam says. "It says when and where you were born and who your parents are."
"I'm not a User," Quorra points out.
"You are now," Sam says.
Quorra shakes her head, wondering if Sam can feel the motion. "You didn't stop being a User when you entered the Grid," she says. "Why would I stop being a program when I leave it?"
"No one's going to believe you," Sam says.
"That's why I have to change the world," Quorra says, grinning.
Sam laughs. "Until then," he says, "do you want to be Quorra Iso or Quorra Flynn, legally?"
"I can't be Flynn," she says. "That's your job now."
Sam leans the cycle into a turn at the crossroads and speeds up. Some of the buildings here are faintly illuminated. Three Users are standing on the walkway; Quorra stares at them as she and Sam fly past.
"You don't get it," Sam says. "We're family now. Like the fans say, Flynn Lives in all of us, but maybe -- maybe you more than anyone."
They reach the top of the incline. Quorra squeezes Sam tightly as, all at once, a city lights up before them, as tall and alive as anything Quorra's ever seen.
"Oh," she breathes, "the lights." The User world isn't all dark after all.
"Just wait until the sun rises," Sam tells her. "That's real light."
Quorra's hair whips back and forth across her face from the turbulence of their passage. "Then I'll choose my name when the sun rises," she says.