Work Text:
Day 16, GC Standard 308
In the end, they had spent the entirety of their day hooked up to the sim, only stopping to eat and go to the bathroom. It was with great effort that the pair eventually removed their patches, deep in the night, far past either of their usual bedtimes.
Same as every other night, the twins had curled up in the same sleeping hammock, bodies pressed close as if they’d come from the same egg. Same as every other night, Tracker had fallen asleep first, murmured conversation with Speaker slowly trailing off. And same as every other night, Speaker was awake, unable to join her sister.
What was different this time around were the reasons why. New corridors had been opened in Speaker’s mind. The phantom feeling of the patch against her neck clung to her skin. The feeling of purpose cradled her heart. Community was the epicenter of an Akarak’s life, and so everything Speaker did was for just that - but now, new detail had been added on to that cultural commitment. A different way of helping had been discovered. Sims were a new way forward.
There was so much to account for. They would need more copies, if they were going to distribute the sim to any Akarak who so much as wanted to try it. Roveg’s kindness should not be taken advantage of - after all, he’d paid for his gift out of his own pocket. Then how were they going to make these copies? Wushengat was just the beginning, too, the introduction of the concept to the rest of her species. Next would come narrative sims, and with that would come translations from Klip into Ihreet that Speaker herself would have to create. And then, hopefully, there would come more official avenues for buying and selling, which would require further liaison, and, and-
-and Speaker was getting ahead of herself. She had never done a project like this before. As clogged as her mind was with ideas, the tasklist would probably be even longer once she wrote it down. The tasklist for her actual job was long enough already. No, all of this could wait until morning. Speaker would need a fresh mind if she was going to pull this off.
Burrowing further into Tracker, Speaker listened to the workings of her sister’s lungs. Nothing out of the ordinary - out of their version of ordinary, that was. No reason for Speaker to put off sleep any longer.
When Speaker closed her eyes, all she saw was Wushengat.
—
Sleep-deprived Speaker had been right - the list was long. Not as long her lists usually were, but long enough.
Still, the list was what Speaker needed to start making a plan. That and her sister. And with Tracker already on board, from the moment her sister had first had the idea, Speaker had almost everything she needed to get started.
They could do this. They just had to take it one step at a time.
So. What was step one?
—
Day 21, GC Standard 308
Though Roveg loved the idea of distributing Wushengat to more Akaraks, he agreed with Speaker’s assessment that it was unfeasible.
“I will do everything in my power to help you and your sister. But I am, regrettably, limited in what I can manage. My job pays well, but I lack the funds of a proper company.” Though broken up by the occasional spike of signal decay, Roveg was as jovial as ever. “Mainstream sims tend to be expensive regardless of the manufacturer.”
Out of everyone Speaker had met on Gora, Roveg was by far the person Speaker talked to the most. They were both busy enough that scheduling regular sib calls was a challenge, but on the evenings they did manage it, Speaker was almost always able to relax.
It was likely Speaker would never truly be able to let her guard down around other sapients. She had trained herself too well for that. The part of her brain that was constantly running through foreign body languages, crucial cultural differences, the cadence and tone of her voice in Klip - well, Speaker hadn’t yet tried, but it was probably one not so easily turned off.
Even so, conversations with Roveg allowed Speaker some reprieve. She snapped her beak a little more, policed her own vocabulary a little less. Each conversation transported her back to conversations in Ouloo’s garden, in Roveg’s shuttle, most of them casual fun. Most of them. Despite the context.
Roveg on these sibs was a far cry from the Roveg she’d first met. The tension had left his frame. His prestigious GC job had treated him well, which was all he or Speaker could hope for. His Akarak friend couldn’t imagine what it must be like, having skills valuable enough to other sapients that the GC itself wanted him on board.
Important for both Roveg and Speaker’s purposes, were the avenues that had opened as a result of the position.
Roveg continued, “I may be able to convince someone with a higher rank than I to produce Akarak-ready versions of my sims. Though - and I hate to say it, because it really is a ridiculous opinion - they may not agree there is a demand for it.”
He had missed the larger issue. “Even if they did agree with you, an official product wouldn’t be as accessible as we need it to be. Most of us don’t have the credits to spend. We trade freely with each other, and-”
“-your jobs exist to benefit your community, not an outside party.” Roveg gave a regretful bow. “My apologies, Speaker. I can assure you I have been paying attention when discussing your culture.”
Speaker shook her head. “You’re fine. I can tell when someone is listening.”
“Then selling copies to Akaraks through the official channels is out of the question. Not if we want everyone who wants it to have a copy.” Roveg sighed, his large body heaving with frustration. Speaker knew her friend well enough to know the feeling was directed towards the system, rather than Akarak society.
There was a moment of silence between the pair. Speaker examined her scrib, which was projecting the sib call onto the wall in front of her hammock. Open in a side window were the notes she had been building on throughout the conversation. She wasn’t entirely happy with what they revealed.
“I would prefer doing all of this above board, but…” Even if it might bother her friend, Speaker felt it best that she not skirt around the topic. “How difficult is it to make your own copy?"
Roveg’s shifted in his chair, antennae bristling with surprise. “Of a vacation sim? Or do you mean one that is released by the GC?”
“Both.”
“For any vacation sim… well, it was - I’ll be quite honest - quite the gamble on whether or not Wushengat would work for you. If you were going to make your own, you would need an Akarak brain map to complete the software. Without that map, the sim is just a vid. I can provide you with it myself.” He paused to think. “The hardware is much simpler - do you still have some of your slap patches left over?”
Teasing fondness crept into Speaker’s tone. “I’ve been saving them, though it’s been a real challenge. Tracker must be starving for a life off this ship with how much she’s been entering the sim. I’ll admit I’m not any different.”
“Well, it’s wonderful that you two are enjoying yourselves!” Roveg chuckled. “Those patches are no different from the ones I would use for a Quelin version of the sim. I’ve never taken one apart, so I wouldn’t know how to make your own. Compared to the drive and the hub, they’re awfully cheap.”
“Have you ever taken apart one of the hubs? Or one of the drives?”
“Hmmm… when I was studying this sort of thing, yes. Most of the details went over my head. I have far more experience with the software. The hardware I can warn you may come with some consequences, especially when it comes to GC organizations. Wushengat’s concept and code can be found in their archives, but legally, only the manufacturers approved by the GC can apply it to a hub and drive.”
“Good to know.” Akaraks may not have a seat in GC parliament, but they still lived in GC space, and could be beholden to its laws. Speaker made a note to visit the Linkings when she had the time.
Then, she stopped. She focused herself once more, remembered to read between the lines of Roveg’s response.
“...It wasn’t my intention to implicate you in anything illegal.” She hadn’t even understood the legality of her plan before the call. “I just… I’m not sure how else to go about this. I would rather you not give me any information that can get you fired."
Her beak snapped - it did little to alleviate her frustration. They had once again come up against an obstacle as unavoidable as her mech suit. Their options were either making their own duplicate sims, and breaking the law, or relying on the limited number of copies Roveg would be able to purchase himself.
Roveg’s antennae bristled - nervousness, this time, because Speaker had reminded him of the plan’s dubiousness? That or it was more surprise at her apology. Even though apologizing was the polite thing to do, after all the questioning. They had barely exchanged small talk before Speaker had gotten them both down to business.
“I’m always happy to talk about my work. As long as we, oh and this might sound a bit childish, but as long as we play it safe- it really is no problem,” he said.
“I don’t consider it childish. I would understand even if you had a different reaction,” Speaker said frankly.
Roveg chuckled. “Oh, but if we were talking about narrative sims, then I would have to direct you to another designer. That is where my help and expertise would end. I haven’t made a game in a very long time, as you know, and who knows how the industry has changed since then? Oh, and all of my sims were so…”
“Quelin?"
Roveg laughed, a little humorlessly. “Yes, exactly. Despite what they were really about. My experience with the format may as well be zero.”
“I have been thinking about it.” admitted Speaker. “It’s hard not to, with all the places this could go. Though I’m aware Wushengat will be overwhelming enough. Everything else is just an idea for the future.”
Depending on how difficult this is to pull off, I may not even be alive to see the other ideas through.
Her heart ached at the thought. Contemplations on her - relatively to other sapients - short lifespan weren’t often Speaker’s style, but there was something about Wushengat that made her feel raw.
“Dreaming big but starting small. It’s a lovely way of thinking, Speaker.”
“Thank you. Though I’d hardly call this small."
“Then as small as you can manage.”
“As small as we can manage.”
Speaker’s dreams that night were not of Wushengat proper. She instead made acquaintance with broken rules, consequences both lawful and social. The worst case scenarios played on loop until they were a symptom of obsession.
Just as she had upon waking up for the past several days, Speaker took the obsession and the doubt and made it determination.