An Ode to Activision

[Slingshot]

Atop of the Activision HQ two dark figures stood in the dim moonlight. They worked in silence, crouched beside a large conduit. It had been a big risk to get here, and neither was looking forward to the journey back. But for the moment there was work to do - work made possible by others on the inside who had taken even greater risks than they.

"So are you going to start now or what?" asked skorpion.

"Sure, doesn't matter" replied eisduotres.

Nothing seemed to phase the younger agent much. It was a quality that skorpion admired, although he knew it was also a dangerous one. The older agent had been around long enough to see more than one bold comrade bite off more than he could chew.

Without delay, eisduotres took a small laser cutter from his belt and darkened his visor. After a quick glance at the conduit, he began cutting a square in the conduit shielding.

"Keep the heat down, eis" whispered skorpion nervously. "I'm worried about the IR sensors picking it up!"

But eis was already finished. "All done. No alarms. Simple" he stated. The back of the cutter was magnetic, which he attached to the newly-made square. The piece broke away, exposing a thick fibre-optic bundle.

Skorpion was pleased. "Two minutes until the transmission. I'll get the decryption subroutines up and running if you set up the hardware."

"Roger."

In silence the two assembled some shiny probes. To avoid detection, the probe leads were connected to a single processor with shielded cables.

"I sure hope this works" said eis.

The comment startled skorpion. "What do you mean? You should have raised your doubts at the briefing."

"I didn't have any then. But this conduit looks different. I mean, what's with the extra wiring at the bottom?"

There was no time to think about that. Skorpion energized the detector and ran a fast check. "Just keep an eye on our signal inductance" he said.

The display panel sparked to life. The communications data that streamed past was intercepted by the probes. Occasionally one or two bytes were captured by the processor and placed in a decryption column. The two didn't expect a long message. This was probably going to be a single word from Sieve, who had been reintegrated into the Actigrammer guild under a new alias.

"First letter, M" said skorpion. "Second letter, hmmm. Skipping. Third letter, T. Something wierd. Skipping. Now N…… Final letter… hmmmm."

A little irritated, eis asked "What's with all the 'humming'? And keep your induction voltage down. You're getting close to background levels!"

"Sorry, I keep getting this data spike. It's coming from a weird frequency modulation." He had one more minute before the lithium-powered probes were designed to self-destruct, and he intended to use it to get the other three letters.

The FM spike was bizarre. "Why am I seeing this?" skorpion thought. He gave a nervous glance at eis, who had begun pacing back and forth.

"It's taking too long. The signal must be gone by now!"

Eis had a point. But this recurring spike had skorpion stumped. How do you get an FM signal on a closed circuit band? he thought. What's the point? Unless there was another probe at another location, but who else was expecting a message? Of course, their equipment made its own FM signal, and if one created a matching field, one could…

Skorpion's blood went cold. "Somebody's on to us! "

The agent yanked the cables from his computer. Eis saw his comrade' frantic movements and needed no coaxing. The two fled to a corner of the building where escape ropes were stowed.

"Oh, no! Oh no! Oh no!" stammered skorpion. His mind raced as he thought of a way out. "We can't let them know it was us! Even if they know someone was listening…"

Eis looked back. A door at the far corner burst open, and out poured Actigator agents. Their silaceous forms gleamed in moonlight that was far too bright for the young agent's taste. He pulled out a plasma rifle and opened fire.

Time blurred. Skorpion looked for a way out. There was no time to use the ropes, and nowhere to hide once they got to the streets below. The agent stared downwards, then grinned.

"Don't worry, eis. This won't hurt a bit!" With that he grabbed eis' shoulder and jumped, pulling his comrade screaming into the empty blackness…"

[Slingshot]

Would anyone else like to be part of the story? I promise that you won't be made to look stupid!

[eisduotres]

Well, when I read,

"Nothing seemed to phase the younger agent much. It was a quality that skorpion admired, although he knew it was also a dangerous one. The older agent had been around long enough to see more than one bold comrade bite off more than he could chew."

I knew something bad was going to happen...

And I had intended to pull your leg with "Galaxy Quest". Surely it's made its way up to Alberta by now.

[skorpion59]

Well, I see now why Dan & Markos are always the first to get the latest and greatest news. It is all the Apolyton Agents they have working for them.

Yep, it looks like the AA's are in trouble. But never fear, the STARS rarely get killed in the first couple of chapters, do they?



------------------
Don,
CtPMaps at Apolyton

[Locutus]

He Slingshot,

Great story! It's the only thing that makes me still come to these CtP2 forums How about introducion some of the 'Great ModMakers', such as CD, TP, Dutcheese, Wes, Nordicus. I wouldn't mind being part of the story myself (even though I don't really fit in that list of names ) Keep up the good work!

Locutus

[Nordicus]

Slingshot:

Hey, great stuff. 'Bout time another Albertan started spewing and carrying on...God knows I'm sick of making an ass outta myself

(PS--> Skorp's real name is Don. Shhh!)

[Slingshot]

“M _ T _ N _ . A little less than I was hoping for.” Stated MarkG.

“Three letters and a tonne of raw data.” replied Locutus. “That’s better than three letters!”

MarkG grunted. The eternal optimist was right. It was possible that the Apolyton server could find three more needles in the haystack. But MarkG was feeling irritable these days. He hated sending good agents on risky missions. He really hated it when they didn’t report in.

And MarkG didn’t have the time to chase down agents missing in action – even ones as good as skorpion and eis. “Locutus, patch this data over to DanQ. He’ll crack it if anybody can.”

Locutus tapped on his keyboard, sat back and grinned. “Gotta love those Canadian winters. These days they have all sorts of time to spend code-cracking.”

“Yeah, sure.” replied MarkG. He didn’t care. The worst part was the feeling that Apolyton was being toyed with.

Of course, Locutus knew that – it was probably why he was being so optimistic. Somebody needed to lighten the mood. But the missing agents were only part of the mystery. The other part was the mysterious package containing the transmission data….

Locutus sat up in his chair. “So why did you fly me to Greece? It must have been more than to enjoy the good weather.”

MarkG smiled. “I need your talents for a job. What’s on your plate these days?”

“Not much,” replied the agent. He stood and restated his question. “What’s on your mind, boss?”

“DanQ and I think you should pay a visit to Activision. Here are your briefing papers. Let’s make it formal and diplomatic. Tell them it’s a visit to find out about CTP2 development. Pretend as if you don’t know what’s going on. Let’s see how carefully they watch.”

“Sure thing, MarkG. Cool and professional. Just the way I like it!” Locutus flipped through the file.

MarkG sighed. When times got tough, it was his agents that made life bearable. The director leaned back in his chair. Times had changed. He started to drift back to the days when he carried out the missions, and how different they were.

Suddenly, a coded window popped up on his video screen. It was from DanQ. “Wow, that guy is fast!” remarked MarkG. He clicked the decrypt button, and a new window popped up. Inside was a single word. The director turned as his friend was walking out the door. “Locutus?”

“Yes sir!”

“Make certain you bring Nordicus with you.”

Locutus went pale. “It’s that bad, is it?”

MarkG gave a cold stare. “How do you spell mutiny?”

[MidKnight Lament]

Heh, heh. Nice work, Slingshot. Guess I should have seen that coming. Perhaps I should have pictured it on a Wheel of Fortune board. That might have done the job

(Sorry I took so long to get here, man. I don't often visit the CTP2 forum. There's usually not much here. If you're looking for someone to fill another character, I'd be happy to provide my services for a worthy cause such as that of Apolyton! "For the betterment of Civ games everywhere!")

- MKL

[Pintello]

Hi Slingshot,

I rather like you stories. I am game. Go ahead and include me in them if you want to.

Regards,

Timothy Pintello

[Pintello]

Hi Slingshot,

I rather like your stories. I'm game. Go ahead and include me in them if you want to.

Regards,

Timothy Pintello
[This message has been edited by Pintello (edited March 22, 2000).]

[skorpion59]

Slingshot,

Good stuff, keep it up. Like everybody else, I keep coming back here just for your stories.

Oh, and I want to be the first to put my order in for a pair of those computer glasses. I'll take mine configured with CtP and a wireless internet connection. Put them babies on, plop down in my big recliner with a built in fridge and ... wait, how long did you say those batteries lasted?


------------------
Don,
CtPMaps at Apolyton

[Nordicus]

Yeah, have to agree there, Don. That's the only reason I come around these here parts

------------------
"There can be no maximum of creation without a concomitant maximum of destruction, no supreme good without supreme evil"--Heller, paraphrasing Nietzsche.

"The more passion for the argument, the less evidence for it"--Russel.

"If you don't agree with me, you're in denial."
[This message has been edited by Nordicus (edited March 22, 2000).]

[Slingshot]

Slingshot was in a trance. He had been waiting for Locutus to arrive in Alberta, and upon arrival the new recruit was to give his traveling companion a suitcase. During the wait, he had donned a new pair of eye-glasses. It had been a gift from the venerable Sig Mayar. The glasses were in fact, a fancy set of 3D monitors. The arms contained speakers that transmitted sounds through the skull, delivering an incredible VR experience.

But the true gift was the software it contained. The latest build of Dinosaurs was on these babies, and what a program it was!

The Apolyton recruit had been playing for hours now, oblivious to the people around him. He had finally evolved to an Albertosaurus - deadlier than a raptor, and hungry enough to feast on the AI's group of brontosaurus. Carefully he laid in wait, as his prey waded through a watering hole, closer and closer to the shore.

The tension was almost unbearable. In moments he would have them. They were so stupid. "Heh heh," thought Slinghot. "They'll never know what's coming!"

And finally the creatures were near enough for a kill. With a glup of glee, Slingshot-gone-carnivore leaped out of his bushy camoflauge. "You're bronto-burger!" he shouted.

Surprised, the great beasts screamed and made a dash for the deep water. Slingshot let out a mighty ROAR, and bolted after them. "Wow!" he thought. "They fell for it! They're sooooo d-"

He never finished the sentence. In real life, Slingshot had been running around the airport, unaware of the screams of mothers as they grabbed children from his predatory rampage. The escalator hadn't been so forgiving. And the recruit found himself on a one-way flight to the marble floor below.

A dark figure watched the entire show with obvious amusement. The smile looked odd. It was jagged, as though his skin wasn't designed to bend much. "Well that problem seems to have taken care of itself! Carbon-based life is so prone to distraction, and so easy to deceive."

Thirty minutes later, the arrival door opened. Out walked Locutus, looking tired from a long trip. He quickly scanned the crowd of faces, looking for some red-faced, overexcited recruit to identify himself.

Time passed. Shouts and warm embraces greeted long-lost relatives and loved ones as the plane emptied. Still no one. Finally, an odd-looking fellow hobbled to the Agent. "Your bag, sir," was all he said. The youth turned on his heel and left as quietly and awkwardly as he came.

"Times are a-changing," remarked Locutus. But right now he was too tired to care. "Nordicus will know what's going on." Then he turned and walked to find an exit.

[Slingshot]

Locutus and Nordicus sat in an office that overlooked the thawing Alberta landscape.

"I'll never know why you like to stay here," remarked Locutus.

"Sun," replied Nordicus. "It may get darn cold, but there is always a ray or two of sunshine."

"This is true," remarked Locutus. "In the Netherlands I haven't seen natural light for weeks! But then there's Greece. A little rain in the winter, and that wonderful Mediterranean Sea…"

"You mean nothing but the Mediterranean, crowding up against rugged mountains. If you love crowds, Greece is the place for you. I'll take prairies and the Rocky Mountains any day!"

Locutus scowled. "You North Americans! You're so in love with your continent that nobody could tell you of a better place. Now you'll be saying God Himself lives here, and he's forgotten about the rest of the World"

"Many would say that God has forgotten about the whole World - maybe you could ask Cybershy about that. Regardless, it is always good to be in the company of friends."

"Likewise," replied Locutus. Nordicus was a smooth talker. He always got his point across, and he was always seemed to make a person feel good about hearing it. "But anyways, tell me about your operations here. It seems you have been cracking the whip lately."

"Whatever do you mean?" was the reply. "We always run a tight ship around here!" Nordicus was smiling.

"Sure you do. And your agents are naturally the most relaxed in the entire organization. Except for that fellow at the airport this morning."

"You mean Slingshot? He's got a good head on his shoulders, although he's awfully clumsy, and not one who likes to focus. I thought that this job was simple enough."

"The way he was walking, he must have broken both legs a few years back. Of course, he couldn't have hurt himself nearly as bad as the guy who jumped down a flight of escalators."

Nordicus was amazed. "You're kidding. Some fool jumped off to the ground below. Was he on drugs or just crazy?"

"From what I heard, he must have been crazy. The guy was growling like a bear or something. He shouted 'You're bronto-burger!' and took the leap."

Nordicus gave a thoughtful stare. "You know, that sounds like something Slingshot would do. Well, I wouldn't have thought he'd jump around, but lately he's been into an eyeglass Dino game."

"Dinos!" That was too much for Locutus. "You certainly have been letting the troops slide… Dinosaurs instead of Civ. Shameful!"

"Forget the shame. I want to know more about your suitcase delivery boy." Nordicus tapped a button on his keyboard. A lovely face popped up on the screen. It was Apolyton's Virtual Assistant 5.0

"What can I do for you?" it asked.

"Get me Slingshot," he replied.

There was no answer. Then the face said, "Slingshot is unavailable... Searching… Slingshot is at the University hospital… Intensive care. Should I notify his wife?"

Nordicus stared wide-eyed. "I think you had better. And get me a hammer! I'm going to knock some sense into his head!"

The news didn't make Locutus feel very good. "That leaves a big question about who gave me this suitcase."

"And of course we've opened it in this office." Nordicus tapped his keyboard some more.

"What can I do for you?" asked the Virtual Assistant.

"Bring in a scanning team, on the double!"

[Chuckles]

The one-who-does-not-stop-laughing returns.

It has been a long time.

The bright lights of the Apolyton site hurt his eyes, eyes more accustomed to the darker hues of AOK Heaven.

That's right, Chuckles was returning from the dark side of RTS.

It had been a long time since the last TBS adventure was played. 6 months or more since he first slipped into the quick fix embrase of the deathmatch game. He was lured in by the simplistic game play and the quick multiplayer games. But the mistress had started to grow wrinkles and a fat butt, and just wasn't putting out anymore. The crack cocain fix had worn off and a need for more was returning. More control, more strategy, more planning, more micromanaging, more gripping about stupid suicidal AI.

Chuckels thought back to the old days when Apolyton first formed. The names of old posters had faded but he could still remember the hopefull days of Suggestion For CIV:CTP, and the exiting post wars of Canada For CTP!

As he looked around he noticed many new features like blinking happy faces, skill levels, and poster locations. These new features frightened and confused him, for he was just a poor unfrozen Northern BCer who couldn't spel that well. But he was happy to see other Canadian posters, just as eccentric as the old ones. He had missed his home, for where else would an engineer be allowed to post stories he wrote himself? He also though this was a really cool way of seeing what his skill was, even after all this time away.