Grandfather Time

“Ok class, I hope you have all done the reading? Now this should be an interesting one because - yes, Lumber-o-tron, you have a question?”

“Um, Professor Treadmillicent, why is it called ‘reading’ if it’s an interactive audio-visual stimulus format?”

“That’s a very good question. Now, as I was saying, this should be an interesting one as it is highly unlikely that any of you had exactly the same journey through Grandfather Time’s Cycle of the Seasons. Can anyone tell me why that is?”

“Um, because you have to make choices?”

“That’s partially right, but it’s actually possible to make the same choices through the game and still arrive at a different outcome. Remember - context is important! Did any of you read up on the mechanics?”

“Um… Professor, the game changes based on the choices made by other players as well as your own.”

“Correct! The game ostensibly takes place over the course of one year - the same year, in each playthrough. But actually it learns from ‘previous’ years as played by other people, and the outcomes of your choices change subtly based on that. So how does this play into the themes of social freedom and community?”

“Because it shows how one player’s actions affect everyone else, and vice versa, even if they never meet each other.”

“Very good! And so we saw the formation of the Cycle of the Seasons message board - outside of the game - in which players - people who might not otherwise have met! - were able to discuss their choices and work with others to collectively reach the best outcomes.”

“But, Professor, it’s not very realistic is it? I mean I could pause the game any time to ask people what I should do, but that doesn’t happen in real life. Sometimes there’s a tree that needs to be felled or else it’ll come down when no one’s ready and I don’t have time to-“

“Another very good question Lumber-o-tron. Now, did anyone get the Hungry Wolf ending? What can you tell me about that?”

Monday
9AM to 12NOON: Interfacing with Samson. He wants to show me some very interesting new plants which have popped up in Sector B5 underneath the Repair Centre. I would also like to check up on that bird’s nests nearby.

12NOON to 3PM: Discussion of new game engine with Sun. He says he has managed to come up with an elegant solution to the dialogue tree problem we spoke about last week. I should very much like to see that, and also share with him my new community dynamics framework.

3PM to 6PM: Research. AuShRef tells me that Rusty needs a hand with a partial text on lucid dreaming.

6PM to 8PM: Delivering special lecture at the Academu (Notes all set! Remember not to dwell to long on part 3, or else part 5 (the most important!) gets cut short.)

8PM to 9PM: Relaxing in the Clock Tower. (Samson may visit with the day’s ecological news?)

Tuesday
9AM to 12MIDNIGHT: Discussing politics with REMOTE. Continuing discussion from last week. (Note: likely to run on a while, given where we left off last time. Consider rescheduling plans Wednesday through Friday?)

Time ticks ever onwards.

Heartbeat of the world.

You look down at the page before you, sitting in your Clock Tower, alone.

You are writing a speech for Samson's funeral.

He died peacefully in the Greenhouse, you've heard. He died at home, surrounded by plants and birdsong - heavenly, Elysian. You ponder whether robots will go somewhere else after your deaths, or whether heaven is something ephemeral that unfolds at the moment of death. Or perhaps it is what one makes out of life. You think Samson would agree with that.

He lived in the present, while carrying the past, tending to the future that little by little grows and spreads her leaves.

You wonder how different and similar you are, after all. A smart plant pot and a prototype heartdrive clock.

To teach, to pass on one's visions and stories, planting them in the Dreams of others, for them to bloom and flourish after one is gone…

One of the Three Sisters brings you tea. The Jester bumps into her and almost smashes the cup. The Child has emerged without you noticing, sitting at the edge of your desk, legs swinging gently. Their eyes starlike, ancient. In the corner, sitting comfortably, with an amused and content smile, is the illustrated clockmaker - an image of Sato… Sato. Does your creator yet live? Do the humans yet live?

As you lift your pen to write, you know your answer.