“But we need to release this year.” He doesn’t need to add the subtext. Apart from Scarlett, everyone here is on the management team. They all know about the company’s precarious finances. Anders continues. “I’m thinking October. But we won’t announce until July. What do you think, Piotr? Will three months be enough to get the build-up we need?”
“Well, it’s not a seasonal game so November and December would be duds. The big studios, by and large, have already announced their release dates for October. If we can avoid those, I think we could do it. Early access has helped create a buzz.” He nods, but then adds, “Of course there’s still danger from other indie studios.”
Ahmed interjects, “Word on the street has Wobbegong Interactive aiming for October.”
“Sharks,” Ramesh comments, and everybody titters. They’re a competitor to us but their monetisation tactics are a lot more aggressive. They push micro-transactions heavily, where players keep having to pay for small add-ons for a better game experience. Anders’s fundamental belief has always been that’s exploitative. If the players have paid for the game up-front, they should get to play the best version of it.
Anders turns to Ahmed, one eyebrow raised. “October?” he questions.
Ahmed shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “Perhaps.”
“Not good enough.”
“Thirty-first,” Ahmed says, going for the maximum wriggle room even as everyone knows it’s not possible.
“Coward,” sneers Scarlett, unhelpful as always. I wonder at her nerve. Apart from me, she’s the most junior person present. She’s only here because she will need to co-ordinate the release with our partners.
“I’ll help,” Anders offers. There’s an audible gasp, and everyone looks horrified.
I smile. Anders built this studio from scratch. He’s done almost everyone’s job at some time or another and he’s done it well. But many of our employees describe an Anders intervention as the most terrifying experience of their lives. He turns up behind them, watches for ten minutes silently unnerving them, and then lists out all their mistakes. It’s his idea of help. He does it to me all the time. And he can’t imagine why I turned down his marriage proposal.
“Engineering will hit whatever date is decided,” Ramesh says hurriedly before Anders offers to invade his domain too.
But it still takes an hour before we have an agreed date in October that both tech and creatives are confident of hitting and that is clear of any big-name launches.
The platter of doughnuts is littered with crumbs, and the coffee flask is empty as the meeting draws to a close. One by one, the management team filter out, leaving Anders and me. And Scarlett.
As I collect up all the paper left behind for shredding, Scarlett sidles up to my boss.
“Did you want to go over the terms of the contract with the new localisation provider?” she asks, gazing up at Anders. Did Ijust see her eyelashes flutter? “I’m happy to stay late. Maybe get some takeout?”
But Anders looks straight past her. “I don’t think that will be necessary. It’s a straightforward subcontract. I trust you to do your job. Cora, do you want a hand with those?” He’s spotted me loaded up with the giant flasks and half-empty water bottles.
We swap. I take his laptop; he takes the coffee and tea canteens in one large, strong hand and the plates in the other. The meeting room door closes behind us, leaving Scarlett alone.
And another burst of heat diffuses outwards from the approximate location of my chest.
How very strange. I hope I’m not going down with something.
A Dinner Date
A couple of days later, just before the end of my working day, Rob pops his head around the corner.
“Is Obi-Wan in?” he asks.
As a lead gameplay programmer, Rob is too low down in the company hierarchy to warrant much access to the big boss. But Anders has an open-door policy – anyone can bring him anything and he will listen. And Rob was one of Anders’s first hires; he has a special place in Anders’s heart. Rob should be a section head, but he’d rather stay immersed in virtual characters and imagined worlds than deal with the messiness of real life.
I nod. But as Rob steps fully into view, he brings someone else with him. Ginny. And she’s sobbing.
I hover uncertainly, even as Rob knocks on Anders’s door.
“I need a word,” he says and I hear my boss’s reply, “Sure.”
Rob shepherds the weeping woman in and I trail along behind, concern for my friend overwhelming my desire to leave on time.
Rob looks directly at Anders. “Ginny and Piotr were a thing. Not anymore,” he summarises.
Anders looks up. “Thanks, Rob. I’ll take it from here.” And I see the relief flood across Rob’s face. Even though he likes Ginny, this mass of emotions causes him stress.
