Tunnel Rat - Interlude: The Snow over Takayama
It was snowing in Takayama. The thin, white layer coated the traditional wooden buildings and the swirling flakes obscured some of the details of the modern world. It was a lovely illusion and Julius sat in front of his small house’s largest window watching the storm as he sipped some tea. He had the entire afternoon to himself, he was enjoying the peaceful bit of time with nothing to do, while at the same time regretting its existence. This was meant to be his game day. Once a week for the past nine years he had opened up his game to a select group of up old friends and young enthusiasts. Sometimes as many as two dozen of them played at once, while other weeks it was just he and his old crew.
Today, no one was exploring the galaxy in a patched-together ship. He missed it already. Legally, he shouldn’t be playing ever. But he had no money to take and no lawyer was going to come after a dozen old men playing an old game. In many ways, it wasn’t the same game. He couldn’t risk owning an SC6 machine, and even if he could fit one into his small house, there was no one nearby to play. Fritz was in Canada, the Moreski brothers were in Poland, Dan was in the US, Abe still insisted on staying in Antarctica in a small research station and played when he wasn’t busy counting penguins.
When they got together now, it was using VR helmets and a custom set of controls he had built for each person.
It wasn’t the same as being together in the same machine as the rest of your crew, hearing them through the thin compartment walls as they cursed at pirates and hearing their voices over the crappy sound system. But they got to play. He was still sad he had missed attending the event where they played his game. That little girl had impressed him. Twenty-four machines! Where had she found that many SC6 machines? Granted, they were in horrible shape. He’d spent most of a month helping them test and repair them for the event. He’d skirted close to the legal line that would have seen another lawsuit on his doorstep. By calling it a ‘promotional event’ with no income, they had pulled it off. He regretted not being there to watch, but the realities of his situation were harsh. He’d fought too hard to keep the game alive, and taken on too much debt. It would follow him forever. This was why he accepted charity from old friends, living in what had been a vacation house in Japan. If he owned nothing, they could take nothing.
Watching the event had brought back the old excitement. They’d sent him all of the video from the event, as well as the data from each of the machines. He spent hours each week looking at the fights. Those crazy fights! Someone had leaked builds; that was obvious. His sources in some of the older teams told him that the corporate teams had started it, but someone had turned the tables on them. This resulted in some of the most outlandish configurations he’d ever seen and some very fun battles. Maximized Grazers vs a horde of LAC had been so much fun to watch. He’d always told people to watch out for that build.
But the Claw Master team still confused him. If he didn’t have all the data, he’d have sworn what they had done wasn’t possible. He’d seen someone slingshot missiles around a black hole, gaining velocity and obscuring anyone trying to track them. He’d done it a few times himself. But with a full navigational computer, advanced targeting AI, and on a private server with mods that allowed for bigger computers and better sensors. Somehow the navigator on their team had done it with just the raw data from the sensor net and sent the missiles around not one, but two black holes. Just insanity. He’d checked the video to see if the navigator had a personal computer sitting on his lap, but to his surprise it was just a young boy, sweating while concentrating intensely on the game and making rapid changes with his controls, the way any navigator looked in the middle of a game. He’d sent a request for his email, but had gotten no reply.
He’d ask again, next month, but for now he sat watching the snow come down, and wondering how to keep a quad fusion drive from exploding when you tried to make three jumps in a row. Maybe he could set-up a simulator for just the navigator role and try to do it himself. He had the time. His musings were interrupted by an incoming phone call. Someone with more money than him, asking for a full video conference via data-net. He moved to a monitor and accepted the call.
On the screen appeared a smiling man in an expensive suit. Julius’s heart sank. This wasn’t someone he knew, and that was always bad. He took a deep breath, and prepared himself for another fight over the little money he had left.
“Dr. Shepherd? Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me. I’m Wyatt Eady, but please, call me Wyatt.”
“Of course, and if we are being informal, please call me Julius. It’s a long time since I was teaching astrogation at MIT. What is it that I can do for you, Wyatt?”
Wyatt Eady sat forward in his chair with an excited look on his face. “I wanted to talk to you about SC6. Forgive me, I just played a game on a simulator some of our guys put together and I had a great time. You really created a fabulous game.”
Ah, so it was about the game. Julius knew how this went. The polite man would compliment him and then demand something. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stretch this out. Still…he was being polite. “Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it. May I ask the reason for your call? I’m sure you understand that I can hardly call it ‘my game’ any longer. I had to sign away most of my copyrights, patents on the machines, and rights to the game. That was quite some time ago.”
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The polite man nodded. “Yes, I’ve done my research. I’m not happy with what I found or the way things were done, but as you say, that was long ago. I can only work with the situation that I find before me. Especially in light of recent events.”
“Ah, I see. You are referring to the promotional even put on by the Manpower Corporation. I have to stress that I neither gave my permission, nor could I. They found the machines, talked to the various people claiming ownership, or didn’t. I don’t know.”
Mr. Eady nodded again. “Yes, the ownership is quite tangled. But I have to stress one point: I and the people who employ me feel that SC6 is your game, and always will be.”
“What is it that you want, Mr. Eady? I’m an old man who doesn’t have a cent to his name. I can’t afford healthcare beyond seeing an acupuncturist and drinking herbal tea. You can insist that it’s my game until I die, but I can’t pay you anything.”
“Oh…I’m sorry. I’m not being clear.” Wyatt seemed embarrassed, and fumbled with some paperwork. “I’ve bungled this badly, Dr. Shepherd, please forgive me. I should have chosen my words more carefully, especially when thinking about your interactions with other corporations.”
He continued quickly. “You see, we want to partner with you, buying the right to bring a version of SC6 to market, and of course, paying royalties to you.”
Julius blinked twice. “I see. While I admit that I would love to explore that idea, there are three corporations who all think they own my game.”
Wyatt smiled and forwarded files to Julius. “I have taken care of that. All parties who claimed any rights to your game have been convinced to sell them or give them to my employer. Claw Master Inc. now owns those rights. And if we go ahead with this partnership, our first step is to sell you those rights for the sum of one American dollar. This puts all of the ownership of your game back in your hands. We can then proceed into the partnership with a clearer vision of what we want to do.”
“That…yes…a dollar? Yes, I agree. Tell me about the partnership. What are we doing?” These documents gave him back his game. They weren’t even contingent on a further deal. He sent a payment of one dollar to the mysterious Claw Master Inc. and gained control of his game for the first time in many years.
“Thank you, Wyatt, and thank whoever is behind this. I’m quite overwhelmed.”
The man behind the desk smiled brightly. “Oh, we are just getting started. What we propose is to move SC6 into a complete virtual universe, playable in virtual reality using MK VII gaming pods. Full NPC support. Full astrogation. And we’d like to use all of the mods developed for your game. If individuals other than yourself developed those, we will pay them for the rights, or pay them royalties. We want to rebuild SC6 the way you meant it to be. And we have a few twists of our own that we would like to run by you.”
“I’m agreeable to all of that, Wyatt. But I have to warn you, I’m a little out of the way here. Data-net access is very limited and I don’t own a gaming pod. You mentioned royalties. I might be able to relocate for some time, if you could advance me enough to do so. But either way, I’m in.”
“I’m very happy to hear that, sir. How about this? I know you would hate to relocate permanently from such a lovely place to live, but what if we provided you an apartment here in our research complex for extended visits. We’ll provide you with funds to cover the cost of travel, as well as an advance on royalties. That way you could work with our staff in developing the new game, and take advantage of our pods here at our office. We can also supply you with a pod for your home. Everyone who remembers the game has stressed how important it is to bring you on board, along with your ideas. We even have two test groups who can’t wait to go explore the galaxy. They also mentioned that the ‘Seedy Bars’ mod needed to be included.”
Julius smiled. If anything, that last statement convinced him that Wyatt had talked to some of the older players. “Of course, what would SC6 be without a place to drink after your ship blows up. But I’m curious, what are these twists you have in mind, Wyatt?”
“Oh, just a few ideas some of the lads came up with. You see, we are working with the creator of a new VRMMORPG, called Genesis Engine. They suggested that the universe was too big to only have humans building starships. They have some ideas to include Dwarven Engineers, Space-Rat mercenaries, and other races, along with their own unique ships and space stations.”
Julius was excited, especially after he saw the sketches of the new races. “Oh, that will be fun. And bars, they will need unique bars as well.”
Wyatt agreed. “What would an Orbital Engineering Station be without a bar for the hard-working dwarves?”
The two men talked for another two hours after which Julius started packing to catch his flight the next day to start his new job at Claw Master Inc.
