by Bryan Fields
Rose’s presence soothed my mind, sorting the memories and cloaking the ones I didn’t want to share in. Some things were beyond any forgetting, but at least I didn’t have to remember them so perfectly.
I sat up and looked outside. The tips of the mountains on the west side of the valley were just tinged with sunlight. I was starving and needed a shower, but my robe was nowhere in sight. I gave up on it and looked back at Nadia. “You can pick your staff, but twenty percent is a no.”
She nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “What sum did you have in mind?”
“Twenty-five percent. That means you make more than I do.” I took a moment to make sure I hadn’t been sleeping commando and rolled out of bed. “Mitch screwed me seven ways from Sunday, including on his compensation. I can’t ask you to take less than I was paying him, when you’re going to have to clean up his mistakes.” I stretched and felt a mental nudge from Rose. She was in dire distress and needed a Hero to scrub her back. I hurled myself on that grenade. “Rose needs me to help her with some hard-to-reach spots, so...Anyway, there’s a big power-breakfast thing at seven. How’d you like that to be your first official function?”
Nadia shrugged. “Sounds fun, but you’re right. Shower first.” She stepped past me into the bathroom and tossed her robe on the counter.
I thought back to the night I met Rose, and how well risking that unknown had worked out for both of us. Rose giggled at the thought and I gave in. Like I said back then, she might be all kinds of crazy, but I’m not.
At least the sound of the water drowned out any bow-chikki-bow-wow music…
We managed to arrive at the breakfast meeting just before seven, looking far more together and professional than I felt. We introduced Nadia, and let her collect well-deserved congratulations, including a nod and a “Well done” from her beloved Aunt Josephine. Those two words set her aglow even before Rose cast the beacon spell on her.
Today’s topic was “Playing it Forward”, an extended meditation on the amount of good our companies could do if we reinvested our earnings into scholarships for up and coming artists and programmers interested in the gaming industry. It wasn’t a bad idea—or a new one—but the speaker managed to make it boring to the point of physical pain. We all but ran for the show floor as soon as it was over.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was worried one or more of our greeters might not show up. It’s hard to say how someone is going to respond to learning they’re sharing a world with Elves, Dragons, magic, and who knows what all else. Thankfully, the entire crew was in and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Once our systems were verified operational and ready for the public, I gathered the team for a quick meeting.
“I’m glad to see everyone back today. I half expected Josephine would stuff you into a black helicopter and whisk you off to Vancouver for new employee orientation.”
“That’s next week,” Frisco said.
“Congratulations,” I said. “Shae, how did the blind date go?”
Shae blushed. “It was, um, amazing. His name was Otavalo and he’s part of the executive security detail travelling with Josephine.”
Nadia’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Ota is…kind of a prankster, especially for the Houseguard.”
“I’ve never laughed so much in my life,” Shae said. “We’re having dinner with my parents tonight.” She clasped Nadia’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “One Human lifetime would be enough, filled with laughter like that. It would be enough for me.”
Nadia pulled Shae into a hug, but her eyes were on Rose. “A life like that would be wonderful,” she murmured.
I cleared my throat and tapped my watch. “It’s almost time for bathroom runs, so I’ll make this short. You all know Mitch is no longer with us. I’ve asked Nadia to take over his duties, and she’s agreed. As of now, Nadia Llewellyn is our new Vice-President of Product Development.” I started clapping, and everyone joined in, along with quite a few of the Spartan guys.
Nadia smiled, waved down the applause, and said, “Thank you, everyone, but we’ll do the speeches later. I’m going to be going with David and Rose to the investor meeting this afternoon. While we’re gone, Vex is in charge. Text us if anything critical comes up, and we’ll be back as soon as we can. Now, if there’s nothing else, my bladder meter is nudging red. Shall we?” She headed off and the other ladies fell into step with her.
My own bladder meter was still well in the green, so I shelled out twelve bucks for a bad coffee and an epic blueberry muffin. I gulped both down, and our booth was ready to rock with an entire minute to spare before the doors opened.
If anything, the flood of attendees was larger than yesterday’s, but we were more accustomed to the constant torrent of noise and activity. I had a hard time focusing on the folks coming to the booth; my thoughts kept drifting to the upcoming meeting. It was a physical relief to leave the convention and pile into a taxi. We ate lunch at the casino where Mister M was staying and went over our talking points. At fifteen before the hour, Rose and Nadia donned matching headscarves of indigo silk and we headed for the elevators to the VIP suites.
The Brick was waiting for us. After a brief pat-down, we followed him onto the express elevator. None of the floors were marked, and a concierge had to use a key to send the elevator to the correct floor. I kept thinking I should make small talk, but I had no idea what I could say. I decided to stick with silence.
The elevator lobby had a round skylight with panes of leaded glass crystal, shattering the sunlight into rainbow bands of light covering the floor. To the right and left, matched sets of walnut double doors led to the suites themselves. We headed right.
These suites weren’t the most opulent the casino had to offer, but they had the best views of the city. Inside, the floor was a mosaic of a compass rose done in multicolored marble, with a fountain in the center. The water streamed out of a bowl held by a life-sized gold caryatid statue. Ivy-draped marble columns twenty feet tall supported a dome of leaded glass that cast rainbow-tinged bands of light around the room. A small forest of exotic flowers lined the walls, complementing the landscapes, copies of the Old Masters, and antique maps hanging on every surface allowed by the limits of good taste. It was all I’d dreamed it would be—full of the opulence and elegance and over-the-top excess Vegas was famous for.
Mister M emerged from the hallway leading to the master bedroom and clasped my hands. “I am pleased to see you again, David. Welcome, welcome.” He gave Rose and Nadia a polite nod and chuckled. “I remember your gracious fiancée from the airport. My wives send their gratitude for your kind gifts. They were well received.”
“Thank you, sir. May I introduce Nadia Llewellyn, our new VP of Product Development? I believe you know her parents, the Cullans.”
“Indeed I remember. Congratulations, miss. Please give your parents my compliments.” He clapped his hands and gestured for us to follow him. “The balcony overlooking the gardens is most pleasant, and quite preferable to meeting in the study.”
“Just a moment,” the Brick said. “A gentleman arrived a few minutes ago, claiming he was your vice-president. Can you explain, this, please?”
“Rat bastard…” I shook my head. “I fired Mitch two days ago. He isn’t supposed to be here, and should not be telling people he still works for us.”
The Brick waved and the junior Bricks jogged down the hall. They checked the patio, nodding and giving the thumbs-up. I let them open the door.
Mitch was leaning back in his chair, with his stinking dirty feet up on the table. He smiled and said, “Abdul, my man! How much are you gonna give us?”
I don’t remember crossing the patio, grabbing Mitch, or dragging him over to the railing. I do remember holding Mitch over my head and looking down at the swimming pools and palm trees below us. “What do you think, Mitch? How much distance do you think I can get? Five bucks says you hit the pool.”
“Let me go, moth—”
“Wish granted.” I took a half-s
tep backward to get more stability and hurled him out into the air.
At first, all I saw on Mitch’s face was disbelief. Then he realized the…gravity…of the situation and screamed. It lasted longer than I expected, but when it cut off, all the anger and frustration I’d been keeping a lid on just…vanished. I wanted to laugh and hug everyone, but I held back. Even in that giddy euphoria, I knew better then to start celebrating. Everyone else joined me at the railing and together we peered down at the garden.
For a moment I couldn’t see where he’d landed, but people started converging on one of the canvas changing pavilions by the side of the pool. He’d ripped through the roof and brought the whole thing down on top of him. His impact site was a good thirty feet to the left of where he should have landed. It was wrong, but…ah, screw the physics—I just got a hole-in-one.
Someone asked, “How’d that golden parachute work out for you, Mitch?” I chuckled and looked around to see who the comedian was. Everyone was staring at me.
Whoops.
Mister M pursed his lips. “Did the business school you attended cover choking people from across the room as well as defenestration?”
“No, those classes were independent study.” I took several deep breaths and held my hands up. “I…apologize. I…This wasn’t something I had planned.” I looked down at the garden again, and the reality made my knees weak. I grabbed the railing to steady myself and looked at Rose. “Oh, shit. What have I done?”
“Most distressing,” Mister M said. “The suicide of a stranger is most distressing indeed, even if all we saw was the aftermath.” He looked at his bodyguards and asked, “Is it not so?”
All the junior Bricks nodded. Number One Brick said, “Most distressing, sir. I will complain to the hotel management about how easily he was able to access the roof. It is a great security weakness which must be addressed at once.” He turned and led the other Bricks back into the suite.
Mister M sat down at the table. “A bad business, but we have matters to discuss. Please, be seated.”
I looked back down at the tent and pulled a five out of my wallet. “Sorry, Mitch. Guess I was wrong about the pool. You win.” I tossed the five off the building and joined Mister M at the table.
Mister M said, “You must understand, I am not protecting you. I am protecting my family’s privacy. Your arrest would mean an investigation, and that would be…inconvenient. Moreover, the young man did me insult by pointing the bottom of his feet at me. For that alone, my guards would have inflicted a mighty beating on him.”
He paused while the suite butler served pitchers of iced mint tea and platters of chilled melon slices. Once we were alone again, he continued. “I am a wealthy man, David, and I often travel in dangerous regions. My guards have killed or wounded twelve attackers in the past year alone. I find no fault in your actions. That man was a suicide, and nothing more. Still, it was a bad ending to a great problem, and it reveals a great shortcoming. You have done passably well for one with no business experience or schooling, but I fear the task you have appointed yourself is doomed to fail. This is why I cannot invest in your company.”
Even though I’d been telling myself to expect nothing, it still felt like a kick in the nuts. The euphoria vanished and I heard a roaring noise all around me. I tried to focus on remembering we still had options, and almost missed Mister M’s follow-up.
“Now, while I cannot invest in your company, you have made a game I can use. I will therefore buy The Living Land from you and continue developing it in Dubai.”
“You like the game, but not me?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I can’t fault you for that. What are your terms?”
Mister M passed a folded piece of paper to me. I glanced at it and my eyeballs turned into dollar signs, complete with cha-ching! noises. I folded it up again and handed it to Rose.
Rose shook her head and started writing a response. I sent a cautious mental note to her, trying to stress that I was happy with the first offer and didn’t want to lose it by asking too much. She sent a solid shut up back to me. Fine, money was her territory. I had to settle for nagging her about having pulled the pen out of nowhere.
Mister M looked over Rose’s notes, crossed out several lines, and wrote down a new figure. This time, Rose made one addition.
Mister M looked up from the note and nodded. “We are in accord. Would you like to see the terms you just agreed to, David?” He laughed and passed the paper to me without waiting for a response.
Five million for the current value of The Living Land. Immediate cessation of all work, development, and promotion involving The Living Land. Two million dollars to cover one year of training for the new development team in Dubai. Three million deferred for five years, dependent on complying with a non-compete clause prohibiting creation of any form of fantasy online multiplayer game.
Ecophage was a “god game”, a world-building resource management simulation. There shouldn’t be any conflict, but I wrote an exemption in anyway, just to be safe. I looked through the numbers again, and tried to ignore the voices shouting at me to take the money and run. I slid the paper back to Mister M. “This is too generous. It’s more than the game is worth. Why are you spending so much on a half-finished game?”
“Because the man with the camel in his pants made me laugh.” Mister M shook his head, chortling. “The game has the ability to do everything I have wished for. It is unfinished, but the foundation is there. I will build on it as I wish, because I do not need to see a profit. I enjoy watching horse races, but I do not need to brush them down or sweep out their stables to gain this enjoyment. This will be the same. Do we have an accord?”
For a long moment, I thought about what Aerin had said about Crom placing obstacles in my way. I guess it never occurred to her he might remove them as well. I nodded and stood up, holding my hand out. “We do. I accept these terms.”
We spent half an hour letting our lawyers in on the deal, but I already felt as though the burden of Atlas had been lifted from my shoulders. If all it took to fly was thinking happy thoughts, I could have made it from the patio back to the Trove in one ecstatic leap. Instead, we took a taxi.
Physics is annoying.
Chapter Fourteen
Clean Sweep
We broke the news to our team as soon as we returned to the show. I wrote out checks for our greeters covering their full pay for the entire weekend and added a nice bonus. We couldn’t close the booth down, but we didn’t have to keep running the demo. Our crew would have to keep the booth occupied until Sunday afternoon, but they were free to read, play video games, or web surf until then. If anyone asked, they could say the game had a new owner and a press release would be forthcoming.
I composed an email for the remaining employees. Rose called our bank and verified the wire transfer had arrived in our account before contacting an outplacement agency to set up for a round of layoffs. Everyone would still be coming in on Monday, but only the Llewellyn folks and a handful of the original employees would be staying.
I gave Tim Lawson a brief heads-up on not hiring any of the folks I’d be letting go and collected some sincere congratulations in return. My next call was to Karen, repaying her advice with the lowdown on showing love for the mongoose. When I finished, she said, “Thank you so much, David. You’re in my book now. Remind me of that if you ever need something else.”
“What does being in your book get me?”
“More help.”
“Ah. I’ll take you up on that.” After I hung up, I pulled out my phone and started a book of my own. Like any good writer or game master, I’m never too proud to steal a good idea.
The rest of the shut-down I took care of in our suite. By five in the afternoon, Curious Diversions was idle and all employees locked out of the system.
To cap the day off, I caught sight of RainbowSparklePwnie climbing a fire escape and dropped a dozen 40mm grenades on top of him. The grenades blew him away, along with the building supports. The
upper four floors came down on top of the little punk. It didn’t leave enough left of him for me to teabag, but I was dancing on the couch. There is no kill like overkill.
We met Josephine for dinner at Legendary, the Trove’s “Otherworldly Cuisine” fine dining restaurant. It was one of those molecular gastronomy places, equal parts cooking and chemistry. I’m guessing “Otherworldly Cuisine” meant the cook looked beyond the Warblade motif; I spotted items from a dozen games on the menu. I ordered a Deathclaw Egg Omelet with diced mole rat and meltdown sauce (an entire ostrich egg, ham from Spanish pigs, and a green chili sauce capable of melting the hinges of a safe) to go for Rose. I had to go with The Cake Is a Lie—a Beef Wellington made to look like a big slice of birthday cake. The frosting was a pâté of wild mushrooms and Marsala wine, but it looked just like chocolate buttercream.
I opened with, “I suggest we void the existing contract and go back to square one, because we never addressed someone buying the game instead of investing in it. Since the two outcomes we discussed don’t apply, the contract is moot anyway.”
Josephine’s poker face might as well have been a porcelain mask. “I see no good outcome to renegotiating a valid contract.”
I shrugged. “The contract is a good starting point, and if you’d rather amend it than do a new one, I’m willing to look at that as well. However, I’m not willing to put the fusion battery plans on the table any more. Ecophage and the battery were and are separate, unrelated issues.”
That got a response; her eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. “You did not secure an investor for your existing product. Therefore, the agreed-upon provisions of the contract go into effect now. You have two weeks to begin developing Ecophage and surrender the technical materials as agreed.”
“My investor bought the game outright. I even have a contract to provide training and support for the next year. I’m sure any reasonable jury would conclude I’ve received an investment sufficient to fund the next year of operations. So, do you want to wait another year, or discuss amending the contract?” Holy Testicle Tuesday, it felt good to not be groveling.
