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Chapter 25
We continued working on what we could, but without Leo the office was devoid of the usual mirth and liveliness that kept us motivated. Don Parka had taken the role of creative lead, his game was progressing into the beta testing giving him a little freedom to take stock of what we were creating. Don’s serious efficient by-the-numbers approach hit an instant brick wall with the general malaise Leo had with documentation. He’d expected to find meticulous records, development logs, and directions for the game laid out in a single easy to follow guide. What he found instead were a maelstrom of half-written ideas, post-it notes and intelligible handwriting. The useful bits were always stuck somewhere in Leo’s head, he was like our encyclopaedia paradoxia. Neither Callum or I had ever really questioned Leo’s method, his tendency was to come in and tell us what needed doing. He never asked us to give him any concepts or proofs, “I want my reactions to be genuine”. Then test, test, test finally getting back to us with his changes or, in the case of Frost making it abundantly clear it was not to his liking.
By the third day Don had all but given up on trying to organise the remnants of Leo’s work, instead he had to accept if he wanted to know the game, he just had to keep playing it. He took the detective first time round as the story was the only one that came to a conclusion, not a satisfactory one but at least you could get to the end credits if you were lucky. He came out of the archipelago and went straight for a cup of tea. “That guy is a fucking wacko” He said to Callum. I asked if he wanted me to rewrite anything. “no, it’s wow. I mean it gets really engrossing but Leo was a fucking nut job.” I didn’t tell him how close he was to the truth. “What should we be doing then boss?” Callum had asked. Don thought for a while and checked the notes he’d made during his play-through. “there’s still a lot for me to put together, are you sure he didn’t have a master doc anywhere or anything resembling a coherent plan?” Callum suggested we just ring Leo. Don thought about it for a while, “It’s a little insensitive if I do it. Can one of you guys?” He said gradually getting a little more colour in his cheeks as he reached the half way point of his tea.
Callum reported in that afternoon. There was no master document, Leo hadn’t needed one. Everything was in his head, each area, each character, each decision. He never needed it all written down so long as he had the notes. Don shook his head, called Leo a useless self-obsessed, arrogant cunt and went back to the testing rooms. Callum shrugged, he smiled as soon as Don turned away. I knew what he was thinking, Leo still managing to give people shit from beyond the grave so to speak.
The next morning when I turned up the office seemed on edge, Katie the receptionist waved me over when I was walking through the lobby. She looked more harassed than I’d ever seen her. “Don’s dead”, she said conspiratorially. It took a minute to register. “What?” She said it again. “Don Parka, Callum found him in the testing room. Called an ambulance but I saw them take the body out after the cops had been here. They’re still upstairs. I guess they’ll need to talk to you.” So many things began to run through my head it’s difficult to put into words what I was thinking. I stood frozen looking towards the elevator, Katie just sort of watching me as I finally overcame the rampage of indecision and doubt that, I’d never really encountered death before. Not unexpectedly. Guilt, why did I feel guilty. I began moving over the tiles, six to the elevator.
I got in immediately confronted with my own reflection staring back at me pale and solemn. We looked at one another for a moment before I broke to press the button. Dread, nerves. What do people say, how do I react? I wasn’t that close to Don, we’d shared a few drinks out of necessity but he wasn’t a friendly kind of guy. I got out and saw Cynthia talking with Roger. The tension, or at least the something, something like an undercurrent of seriousness was on both their faces. She turned to see me first and his gaze followed. They stopped their conversation and waited for me to approach.
“What happened.” I didn’t know how else to ask or even what to ask. What do people say?
“Callum found Don this morning when he was going to work on smoothing out the pears. He was, oh God Alan. It was…”
Roger interrupted placing a hand on Cynthia’s arm as he did so. “It wasn’t a pretty sight Alan, needless to say Don died in the simulation and the program… Well eventually you’re going to see the footage. We’re putting production of the project on hold. Maybe indefinitely.”
They’d sent Callum home after the police had spoken to him, he was really shaken by it. Roger made his apologies saying he had a lot of unpleasant duties that needed to be dealt with. Cynthia took me to meet the police who were talking to members of Don’s team. There wasn’t really much for them to ask, the footage apparently had shown the whole thing and both officers looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here. At thirty-one minutes past one in the morning the footage showed Don in the middle of a play-through as the detective. It looked like he’d been drinking and had just gone to the final battle with Mawvis, calling her that…it didn’t feel respectful in this situation. She’d done what she always does in that situation, create duplicates of the detective and tortured them as the player had to get down the hall to burn the central processing unit with the alcohol from the bar. It was Leo’s ode to Dante, a terrifying gauntlet through his idea of hell. Cynthia hadn’t seen it personally but apparently, he’d tripped, stumbled or fell. It looked like a heart attack.
“This wasn’t an accident Alan, it was her. Oh god. You should have seen the state Callum was in. He was, he was catatonic nearly. When he walked in she was there over the top of the body, Don, just doing what she does.” I knew what she meant, that slavering mouth, those eyes vacant and glaring. “Callum was white as a ghost. I don’t think he’ll be coming back. I don’t think any of us will be. I’m done with this stupid project. You know about Macbeth right, this is fucking Macbeth. It’s cursed.”
I took it in for a minute. Cynthia just watching me waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t think, the seconds passed. “I don’t, what do we say? I don’t know what to say, Cynthia.” She hugged me, her gentle frame pressed against me and the shape of her in my arms it, no. I shouldn’t, not now. “Cynthia, I.” She stopped me by pulling herself back, her face so tantalisingly close, even with her mascara, in fact more so because of her mascara smearing from tears did she seem so beautiful.
“We need to talk to Leo.” She seemed resolute.
“I don’t know, I mean someone has to tell him, but should it be us?”
“Who else Alan?”
“I don’t know. The police?”
“You’re right, they are going to talk to him but not because he’s guilty of anything, no one is blaming him for what happened here.” I already had the impression that this wouldn’t be the case. Everyone would be looking to blame him. Someone was always at fault. Like Romero and Carmack after the Columbine shootings. People need to blame people. Fuck, Galileo was profound.
By the third day Don had all but given up on trying to organise the remnants of Leo’s work, instead he had to accept if he wanted to know the game, he just had to keep playing it. He took the detective first time round as the story was the only one that came to a conclusion, not a satisfactory one but at least you could get to the end credits if you were lucky. He came out of the archipelago and went straight for a cup of tea. “That guy is a fucking wacko” He said to Callum. I asked if he wanted me to rewrite anything. “no, it’s wow. I mean it gets really engrossing but Leo was a fucking nut job.” I didn’t tell him how close he was to the truth. “What should we be doing then boss?” Callum had asked. Don thought for a while and checked the notes he’d made during his play-through. “there’s still a lot for me to put together, are you sure he didn’t have a master doc anywhere or anything resembling a coherent plan?” Callum suggested we just ring Leo. Don thought about it for a while, “It’s a little insensitive if I do it. Can one of you guys?” He said gradually getting a little more colour in his cheeks as he reached the half way point of his tea.
Callum reported in that afternoon. There was no master document, Leo hadn’t needed one. Everything was in his head, each area, each character, each decision. He never needed it all written down so long as he had the notes. Don shook his head, called Leo a useless self-obsessed, arrogant cunt and went back to the testing rooms. Callum shrugged, he smiled as soon as Don turned away. I knew what he was thinking, Leo still managing to give people shit from beyond the grave so to speak.
The next morning when I turned up the office seemed on edge, Katie the receptionist waved me over when I was walking through the lobby. She looked more harassed than I’d ever seen her. “Don’s dead”, she said conspiratorially. It took a minute to register. “What?” She said it again. “Don Parka, Callum found him in the testing room. Called an ambulance but I saw them take the body out after the cops had been here. They’re still upstairs. I guess they’ll need to talk to you.” So many things began to run through my head it’s difficult to put into words what I was thinking. I stood frozen looking towards the elevator, Katie just sort of watching me as I finally overcame the rampage of indecision and doubt that, I’d never really encountered death before. Not unexpectedly. Guilt, why did I feel guilty. I began moving over the tiles, six to the elevator.
I got in immediately confronted with my own reflection staring back at me pale and solemn. We looked at one another for a moment before I broke to press the button. Dread, nerves. What do people say, how do I react? I wasn’t that close to Don, we’d shared a few drinks out of necessity but he wasn’t a friendly kind of guy. I got out and saw Cynthia talking with Roger. The tension, or at least the something, something like an undercurrent of seriousness was on both their faces. She turned to see me first and his gaze followed. They stopped their conversation and waited for me to approach.
“What happened.” I didn’t know how else to ask or even what to ask. What do people say?
“Callum found Don this morning when he was going to work on smoothing out the pears. He was, oh God Alan. It was…”
Roger interrupted placing a hand on Cynthia’s arm as he did so. “It wasn’t a pretty sight Alan, needless to say Don died in the simulation and the program… Well eventually you’re going to see the footage. We’re putting production of the project on hold. Maybe indefinitely.”
They’d sent Callum home after the police had spoken to him, he was really shaken by it. Roger made his apologies saying he had a lot of unpleasant duties that needed to be dealt with. Cynthia took me to meet the police who were talking to members of Don’s team. There wasn’t really much for them to ask, the footage apparently had shown the whole thing and both officers looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here. At thirty-one minutes past one in the morning the footage showed Don in the middle of a play-through as the detective. It looked like he’d been drinking and had just gone to the final battle with Mawvis, calling her that…it didn’t feel respectful in this situation. She’d done what she always does in that situation, create duplicates of the detective and tortured them as the player had to get down the hall to burn the central processing unit with the alcohol from the bar. It was Leo’s ode to Dante, a terrifying gauntlet through his idea of hell. Cynthia hadn’t seen it personally but apparently, he’d tripped, stumbled or fell. It looked like a heart attack.
“This wasn’t an accident Alan, it was her. Oh god. You should have seen the state Callum was in. He was, he was catatonic nearly. When he walked in she was there over the top of the body, Don, just doing what she does.” I knew what she meant, that slavering mouth, those eyes vacant and glaring. “Callum was white as a ghost. I don’t think he’ll be coming back. I don’t think any of us will be. I’m done with this stupid project. You know about Macbeth right, this is fucking Macbeth. It’s cursed.”
I took it in for a minute. Cynthia just watching me waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t think, the seconds passed. “I don’t, what do we say? I don’t know what to say, Cynthia.” She hugged me, her gentle frame pressed against me and the shape of her in my arms it, no. I shouldn’t, not now. “Cynthia, I.” She stopped me by pulling herself back, her face so tantalisingly close, even with her mascara, in fact more so because of her mascara smearing from tears did she seem so beautiful.
“We need to talk to Leo.” She seemed resolute.
“I don’t know, I mean someone has to tell him, but should it be us?”
“Who else Alan?”
“I don’t know. The police?”
“You’re right, they are going to talk to him but not because he’s guilty of anything, no one is blaming him for what happened here.” I already had the impression that this wouldn’t be the case. Everyone would be looking to blame him. Someone was always at fault. Like Romero and Carmack after the Columbine shootings. People need to blame people. Fuck, Galileo was profound.