Podric Moon and the Corsican Tyrant

by Barney Broom

  Archie stood up, furious.

  “The—”

  “You know Podric has been under a non-exclusive contract with Pasaro as a consultant for a while.”

  “They can’t. I won’t!”

  “And it seems Secorni have also been after his services.”

  Not only was Kaliska extremely attractive, she was tough.

  “He’s hot.”

  “You’ve got me here to tell me this?!”

  “No. Podric has informed me he doesn’t intend to sign with either of them unless it’s through MoonLight.”

  “How do you know?”

  Kaliska was slightly exasperated.

  “I just said, he told me.”

  “Wha—”

  “The only deal he’ll do is via MoonLight and he wishes Secorni and Pasaro to know that if they still want his services, all business transactions are to go through the new company.”

  Archie’s expression displayed conflicting emotions.

  “Podric has further advised that apart from Agrolution, he has an agreement with you about some other project you’re working on which commits him to MoonLight.”

  Kaliska sat back.

  “He was quite adamant about it.”

  “You seem to be having plenty of communication with the boy wonder.”

  “No more than you would expect.”

  Archie took a turn around the small room.

  “You think I’m lucky to be associated with Podric, don’t you?”

  “I do. I also think he’s fortunate to be in business with you.”

  “In spite of…”

  “In spite of nothing. Podric may only be seventeen but he’s a smart lad. I think it’s highly unlikely he’d sign up to anything he hadn’t thought about at some length.”

  Archie sighed.

  “He— That family.”

  “Interesting, aren’t they?”

  “You’ve had contact with them as well?”

  “Mrs. Moon called me about this and we’ve had a bit of visual messaging.”

  Kaliska tapped the draft agreement.

  “As Podric is under 18, she had to approve.”

  “And what did Mrs. Moon say about me?”

  “You have no right to ask me that. Now, are you going to buy me lunch?”

  Snapping shut her file, Kaliska stood up.

  “I thought you corporate types didn’t do lunch anymore?”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  She smiled and at the door, turned back.

  “I didn’t tell you this, but Barbara’s attitude was similar to my own. She actually thinks you’re good for Podric. I’ll be in reception in five minutes.”

  ***

  Going into school, Podric found it difficult to concentrate. Meeting Catherine at their usual lunchtime rendezvous underneath an oak tree on the farthest edge of the playing fields, he was distracted.

  “History on your mind?”

  Podric looked at her.

  “How is France’s greatest leader?”

  “Still entranced by your intellect.”

  “Yeah.”

  Podric smiled.

  “He was going to come to school but decided to take the loo cistern to pieces and missed the bus.”

  Catherine laughed.

  “Played him yet?”

  “Uhuh. He’s had a look inside the game though.”

  “And?”

  “It freaked him out. Us going in at 1800, everything was alright up to then because he’d lived it, but things after that upset him. Trafalgar, Russia…”

  “I am not surprised. Aren’t you glad you can’t see into the future?”

  Podric didn’t reply. Catherine continued.

  “Did he get to Waterloo?”

  Podric shook his head.

  “We stopped before that.”

  “Do you think you’ll play him?”

  “That was the idea.”

  Sitting with their backs against the tree, Catherine kissed Podric.

  “I think he should go back.”

  For a little while they shared an intimate silence before Podric replied.

  “So do I.”

  ***

  Dropping Napoleon off at the Lighthouse half an hour after Podric and Amy had gone to school, Barbara introduced the First Consul to Alannah. Already UAR-profiled by Podric, it was remarkable how casually the housekeeper accepted Bonaparte in her matter-of-fact Irish way.

  “My, I’m a lazy bones. Just making breakfast now. Would you like some?”

  Alannah didn’t speak French and Napoleon looked at her quizzically. Translating, Barbara derided her own earlier efforts of toast and instant coffee. She suggested that this would be far superior cuisine. Casting an eye around the high-tech kitchen, croissants warming and an aroma of the real thing flowing from the fanciest of percolators, Napoleon tapped his tummy.

  “Very sensible.”

  Barbara turned to go.

  “I’d better get to work. Podric will be along for you after school.”

  Advising Alannah to pull Google translate up on her phone, Barbara hugged Napoleon. He seemed lost.

  “Mon dieu Barbara. You are my friend.”

  Barbara smiled.

  “You’ll be alright. Podric will see that you are.”

  Watching her go down the drive heading for Tweeney’s Waste Disposal in her battered old VW, Napoleon sighed. An emotional man, he was ruthless yet could be sentimental. In an environment he couldn’t control, his character was diminished. Sensing his inadequacy, Alannah led Napoleon back into the kitchen.

  “Let’s wake Cosima. Her French ought to be good. Those posh academies and finishing schools must have taught her something.”

  Cosima was in fact not only up but had been out for a run. Minutes later, she returned to the house. Not intending to come into the kitchen, she was collared by Brodie as she entered the hall.

  “We have a visitor.”

  Napoleon was standing in the kitchen winding his pocket repeater Breguet.

  “My not speaking French, I need your help.”

  “Is he…?”

  “So Barbara says.”

  “This must be via Dad and Podric’s reality thing.”

  “If you say so.”

  Hot from her jog, Cosima walked over to Napoleon wiping her face with a sports towel. In spite of sweating, now that her indolence had evaporated, she had an easy grace and charm.

  “Swim, do you, sir?”

  The verb was in the wrong place but Cosima spoke French with confidence.

  “No mademoiselle, I do not. Water is for fish.”

  “Then I’ll teach you. Bring your coffee.”

  Left with the choice of a non-French speaking Alannah and the young woman before him, Napoleon opted for the latter. He picked up his cup.

  Rarely has a friendship developed so rapidly. Although he refused her offer of a swimming lesson, Napoleon was relaxed watching Cosima’s svelte form cruise effortlessly up and down the pool. After her swim, they sat in the garden and talked – about everything. Napoleon told her about Josephine and his other loves, his ambitions for France and his place in history. Cosima, about her father and mother, their relationship and her rapport with them.

  “Your father is troubled, I think.”

  “He’s always been like that. He’s a clever man, a proud man, but socially he has issues. My mother is titled and made him feel that he’s not good enough for her.”

  “Titled?”

  “She’s a lady – in society’s terms.”

  “Ha! The English and class – they are obsessed.”

  “If you’re speaking from an eighteenth-century perspective – as far as that’s concerned, not much has chang
ed!”

  They laughed.

  “Tell me about Podric.”

  “I don’t really know Podric. I was in a bad place when he came on the scene. He and Pa seem to have a particular relationship. Brodie says he’s good for Dad.”

  “Brodie?”

  “Alannah, the housekeeper.”

  “Ah, nom de famille.”

  Cosima laughed.

  “Okay…”

  Napoleon was thoughtful.

  “He wants to play me in my game.”

  “So that’s why you’re here. He wants to challenge you.”

  “You don’t play these… computer games?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “Not even the one your father created?”

  “He’s written many.”

  “It is his work, no?”

  “Hmm… My mother laughed at him, ‘children’s science’ she said, but it’s big business. He’s very successful – or was.”

  Napoleon looked quizzically at his young hostess.

  “In the last year or so his games haven’t been doing so well. It’s very competitive and the marketing companies said he was losing his touch.”

  “Napoleonic Wars… as if I am constantly at war.”

  “That’s what we’re taught.”

  Napoleon bowed his head.

  “To be remembered this way…”

  “It’s a successful game.”

  Napoleon looked up.

  “Of course! So, you don’t play?”

  Cosima shook her head.

  “You are alone then, I think. I am told everyone does.”

  “People are crazy about them.”

  “Is Podric?”

  “He must have been but I think they started to bore him. That’s why he wanted to add a dimension to virtual reality and create an alternate one where he could exist inside the game’s world and have whatever adventures he wanted, for real.”

  “For someone who doesn’t play, you seem to have a lot of knowledge.”

  “How could I not? My father doing what he does, I had to pick up something.”

  She sat back.

  “I don’t think Podric likes me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I wasn’t very nice to him.”

  “He is a clever boy, Podric. He has vision.”

  “You think?”

  “This alternative reality… the idea of having another life in a different world; it is interesting and the technologie – ha!” Napoleon looked at his wrist.

  “I rest now. When Podric returns, I will leave.”

  “You depart so soon?”

  “I do not wish to play the stupid game. If I challenge Podric and your papa, the contest will be réalité!”

  “But your existence is inside the game.”

  “If that is so, it is at least an actual existence for me there.”

  Napoleon got up.

  “I leave Paris in the Year 9. I have some more life ahead. A man’s destiny is not proven until he has lived it.”

  He looked at Cosima.

  “The tower – it is quiet there?”

  “The Lighthouse? Should be.”

  “Lighthouse?”

  “My father calls it that. His name is Light.”

  “You bear the same name, do you not?”

  “I’ve been using my mother’s.”

  “Ah.”

  “But I might revert.”

  “He shines more brightly for you?”

  Cosima laughed.

  “Sometimes.”

  “You are a lovely young woman. Will you come and visit me in—”

  Napoleon paused. His next words were obviously distasteful to him.

  “Guerres Napoléoniennes?”

  “You can count on it, sir. I will.”

  Podric and Catherine arrived at Drinkwell after school and went directly to Archie’s lab where they found Napoleon fast asleep on the sofa.

  “You’re very familiar with this place.”

  Unnoticed by either of them, Cosima sat in one of Archie’s leather chairs.

  “I… come here a lot.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Your dad and me, we build games—”

  “And Ultimate Alternative Reality.”

  “You know about that.”

  “My father’s told me. You’re going to programme me.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes.”

  Cosima stood up.

  “Now.”

  Her tone stopped short of rudeness – just. Turning to Catherine she said. “Cosima – Dr. Light’s daughter.”

  “Catherine – a friend of Podric’s.”

  There was the faintest twinkle in both their eyes. Cosima noticed Catherine’s wrist.

  “A particular friend, I think. Shall we get on with it?”

  Grunts and mutters from the sofa suggested Napoleon was waking up.

  “Merde – my head! Where am I?”

  Seeing Cosima, Podric and Catherine, his mind gradually cleared.

  “Poderique. You will return the vision you see to his game. Ha! Perhaps I am unfair about your alternative reality. After all, in a sense, life itself is little more than one.”

  “A moment.”

  Cosima was as imperious as Napoleon.

  “Before you go, Podric has another task to perform.”

  “What could have greater priority than Napoleon?”

  To answer him, Cosima raised her left wrist.

  23

  Stresses and Strains

  Podric having returned Napoleon into the game bearing his name, Catherine prepared to leave. Outside the Lighthouse, she unlocked her Vespa.

  “There’s something about Napoleon I don’t quite trust.”

  Podric looked at her.

  “His wanting to know all about getting in and out of the game – if you read your history, Napoleon was a master strategist. Now he’s learnt about UAR, he won’t rest till he’s planned something using it to his advantage.”

  Archie’s Faciella swung into the drive.

  “I’ll leave you to your high-powered games business but you want to think about it. Napoleon’s not the sort of man to let anything go.”

  She swiftly kissed Podric’s cheek and put on her helmet. “Thanks for taking me. You’re right about one thing. It is life-changing – literally.”

  Archie parked his car by the front door. His expression bore a look of dissatisfaction.

  “Off she wobbles into the night.”

  Archie walked into his lab.

  “Buddy boy Nap gone?”

  “She actually rides pretty well.”

  Archie grunted.

  “Yes, Napoleon’s back inside.”

  “Where he belongs. Bloody fiasco if you ask me. Gather he wouldn’t even play.”

  Podric realised Cosima must have told her father about the First Consul’s refusal to play him but thinking about his experiment, he wasn’t sure it was such a failure. He’d learned things about Bonaparte he knew he otherwise wouldn’t have.

  “Trust you programmed my daughter.”

  Podric nodded.

  “There’s one more person I want to go in.”

  Archie handed Podric an envelope.

  “Only profiled. I’ll say goodnight.”

  With that, Archie got into the lift and ascended. Opening the envelope, Podric saw that the details were Kaliska Monroe’s.

  Sensing that he wasn’t welcome, Podric hitched his bag on his shoulder and set off down the drive. He was nearly at the road when Barney leaped out.

  “Not the bushes again!”

  “When are we going back in?”

  “How do I kno
w? You’re the one doing time.”

  “Not Young Offenders, dummy – your reality thing.”

  “Oh, the adventures you thought boring and couldn’t wait to get out of.”

  Podric laughed. Barney was sullen. He looked rough.

  “Yeah well, when are we going back?”

  “Dunno yet. Where can I find you?”

  Barney held up his mobile and Podric glimpsed the small mark on his wrist. Enough people were programmed now. Podric would comply with Archie’s request to profile Kaliska Monroe, but he wouldn’t programme her or anyone else. Otherwise, if they weren’t careful the unique world they had created would be lost.

  “I’ll let you know. I’m sure it won’t be long.”

  ***

  Whatever it was that caused Archie to behave as he had, after their parting outside the Lighthouse, Podric decided to leave his business partner alone for a while. His recent adventures – their inventing UAR and Napoleon’s visit to the twenty-first century – had left him drained.

  For several days Podric’s life seemed to return to normality, but it didn’t last long. While Pasaro had secured the rights to Agrolution and the launch was imminent, Secorni still circled. Both companies had been advised that Podric’s work was going through MoonLight, but that didn’t stop them from trying to pursue him independently. Cy Zaentz was particularly aggressive in demanding a meeting. With these pressures, it was an irritation to Podric as to why his partner should behave in such an erratic way.

  Walking home from the school bus with Amy one afternoon, Podric was surprised to see Cosima in Briony Close.

  “Brodie told me your number but I forgot it.”

  Cosima was obviously distracted.

  “Numéro cinq.”

  Skipping off, Amy was her usual particular self. Podric shrugged.

  “Napoleon. Right now, everything’s French in Amy’s life.”

  Cosima smiled.

  “You’re wondering why I’m here?”

  Podric didn’t comment.

  “It’s Pa. He’s drinking again.”

  They began walking towards the Moons’ house.

  “I need to talk to someone, someone who knows him.”

  “But I’m—”

  “The nearest thing he’s got to a friend.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  They stopped outside Number 5.

  “You’ll have worked out my dad’s a troubled soul and—”

  Cosima was uncomfortable.