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Narrator/Storyteller

Possibilities By Ethan Hamm.

Alistair Stewart

Escape pod episode 10:53 9 Jul 20:26 this week's story the Game of Possibilities written by Ethan Hamm, Narrated by Ellie Hirschman Hosted by Alistair Stewart Audio production by Adam Pracht welcome to Escape Pod, the Science fiction Podcast. I'm Alastair, your host and this week's story comes to us from Ethan Hamm. Ethan is the Dean of Communications and Fine Arts at Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois. Before his current role he worked in the video game industry and and later became a professor of video game design. He enjoys coaching soccer and playing games with his three sons who are his favorite playtesters? Your narrator for this week is long term friend Ellie Hirschman. Ellie always wanted to be a voice actor growing up watching He Man Thundercats and Voltron. After recording several E learning scientific and marketing projects, Ellie discovered the world of audio podcasts, working with such groups as Darker Projects Where We Met and Dream Realm Productions. Together with fellow actor David Alt, he started Cool Fool Productions where they dramatize bad audio scripts with questionable but often hilarious results. He's currently still active in all EA podcasts except Cat's Cast for now and also appears semi regularly on the NoSleep Podcast. He doodles constantly, but he never saves the drawings and likes to paint with his kids about the amount of paint they are willing to waste on occasion drives him batty. Adam's in the sound wizard chair, I'm in the booth. And yeah, let's play some games because it's story time.

Narrator/Storyteller

The Game of Possibilities by Ethan Hammond Read by Ellie Hirschman it was Emmett's first tournament, so his dad had to pay for an American Gada association membership in addition to the entry fee. At the registration table, Emmett was given a lanyard printed with his name, age, 12 years old, and supposed rank. Emmett's dad transferred enough money for Emmett to buy lunch, said a few words of encouragement, and left. The GADA tournament was an all day affair and and non players weren't allowed in the game room, so it made sense for his dad not to stick around. Still, Emmet found himself choking down a small sense of abandonment. With nothing else to do, Emmet joined the flow of players moving toward the tournament hall. Stepping through a bank of doors, he entered an enormous room that held a seemingly endless grid of tables, each neatly outfitted with game boards and numbered stands. Emmet searched the room for his assigned board. All the ones Emmet could see were for ersatz Gada, but he knew that the last few boards at the far side of the room were for the top players and games of true gada. The tables at Emmet's end of the tournament room were assigned to the weakest divisions. Most of the players around him were kids with a few grownups sprinkled in. One of those grown ups was sitting at board number 277, Emmett's board for the first round. Emmet walked over, sat down, and nodded a quick hello. He and his opponent exchanged names and peered at each other's lanyard to confirm they were playing the right person. The room's volume rose as people found their seats and made small talk with each other. But Emmett and his opponent both sat silently, waiting for the start of the round. As he waited, Emmett thought about the long module on the visitantes that his social studies class had just finished. Emmet's final project had been on Surprise Surprise Gada, his favorite game. In his defense, there weren't that many Visitante topics to choose from. Since Discoberta, the day they showed up on Earth, the visitantes had been very stingy about what they shared. They doled out their marvels like a nurse feeding morsels to a starving man. Simple food, slowly and in tiny spoonfuls so the nourishment wouldn't just be barfed right back out. Gatta was one of those few tiny bites. So everyone gobbled it down. Every school has a club, every library a collection of how to books, and every media site an influencer showing how it was played. Emmet usually played Gada well, ersatz Gada on his school issued streamer. But on the table between Emmet and his opponent was a large tablet game board. Emmet had used a similar board at a friend's house a few times in the past. Playing on it felt more real. Players took their turns on the same surface in front of each other. That was very cool. Plus, Emmett supposed it made cheating a lot harder than it was when playing on your own device with no one seeing your screen. A tournament director spoke into a microphone, asking the room to quiet down. He welcomed the players and then ran through an endless list of thank yous to various volunteers and sponsors. And then the round started. Emmet truly didn't know how good he was. He didn't have a tournament track record, so the rank he registered under was just a guess. He mainly played his friends at school, most of whom he could usually beat. Emmet could totally destroy a relatively new player, but he only did that once. It had felt so uncomfortable and so sad that Emmet only always tried to not totally wipe another player off the board. But this was a tournament, so Emmett wouldn't be going easy on anyone. As Emmett slid his fingers on the board to place or move a piece, he fought to tamp down his hand's shivers. It was the weirdest thing. He couldn't stop shaking. Focus usually came easy to Emmett, but right now it wasn't being effortless. He could focus, but but it was work and felt like walking through a swimming pool in chest high water. The game couldn't have been more than 30 or so moves in when Emmett's opponent resigned. Emmett was surprised. His opponent had made a blunder or two, but the game seemed far from certain. Emmett let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His body relaxed its tension, and Emmett felt completely drained. You need to tell the tournament director you're in the wrong division. You should be playing at a higher rank, the man said. Emmett could tell that his opponent was trying to sound helpful and gracious, but he actually seemed a bit pissed. It's not my fault you made mistakes, Emmett thought. But Emmett dutifully conveyed the message to the two people at the director's table. One of them grunted and tapped on his tablet. Emmett peered over the director's shoulder as he scrubbed through the game Emmett had just played. Yeah, the director said. Maybe we should move you up a division or two. The director asked for Emmet's badge and tossed it into the trash. For a moment, Emmet worried that he was in trouble and was being kicked out of the tournament. There had been warnings about sandbagging and feather bagging when Emmet signed up to play, but no. After a few more taps on the director's tablet, a little printer sprang to life and spat out a fresh badge for Emmet with a new, better rank printed on it. We won't know who you're playing until this round finishes, but you'll now be in Division K instead of M, the director explained. Emmett nodded, took the badge, and strode away from the table, trying to look like he had somewhere to be. He ended up next to a large screen that displayed the tournament matchups and outcomes. For the second round, Emmett was matched against a girl who looked to be about his own age. In his school visitante essay, Emmett had written that GATA is sometimes called the Game of Possibilities for Ersatz. Those possibilities come from how you move the virtual pieces. If Emmett wanted to show strong intention and keep the possibilities small, he would slide a piece into place fast and hard. A slow, more hesitant move would give Emmet more possibilities, and the one game piece would be placed in multiple spaces at once, some more likely and solid, some more ethereal and remote. Emmet loved it when a well placed piece could rewrite the board. To Emmet, the game felt organic, like two colonies of organisms growing, dying, and evolving. The one thing you don't want to do in Ersats was change your mind mid move. It was tempting sometimes when you saw the possibilities that spawned as you were making a move, but the game punished abrupt changes in direction or speed with extremely scattered and weak possibilities. The game against the girl was going well. She's a good player, Emmet thought, but she's moving too quickly. He didn't mean that her hand movements were too fast, throwing off the wrong possibilities. She actually seemed quite good at the intention part of the game. Her problem was that she didn't think before moving. She jumped on her turn so fast that often she would start moving a piece before Emmet's move had fully resolved. Emmet had taken advantage of his opponent's speed by playing a number of moves where the obvious response was actually a bad one, moves that would be avoided by a player who read the game even a tiny bit more deeply. Emmet was in such a strong position that he couldn't lose if it weren't for the game clock. Emmet liked to think through his moves, and perhaps he took even more time than usual in this game, subconsciously pushing back at his opponent's rushed pace. His clock was running low and Emmett was starting to feel its pressure. Pretty soon he'd have to start rushing his moves and playing his opponent's game. It was still the mid game, and there were plenty of opportunities to make stupid, fatal mistakes. That is why Emmett decided to take a chance. The strength of his position gave him room to make a pointless move. Pointless, but maybe not. It was hard to describe, but the board felt right for it. The uncertainty it contained was high, a supersaturated situation in which one hard tap might precipitate a sweeping change. One that could, Emmet hoped, greatly favor his already strong position. Emmett started his move. The brashness of it renewed the shaking in his hand, but Emmett didn't fight it. This was one move in which a shaking hand worked just fine. His fingers slid across the tablet's glossy surface, pulling a new piece onto the board towards a vacant space near the center where the action was building. But before sliding it into place, Emmet shifted directions, twirling his finger in tiny circles on the glass before abruptly plopping the piece in an unsettled part of the board. It was a sloppy, purposeless move, and the piece sprayed out possibilities, as numerous as they were weak. Most of them, including the piece Emmet actually placed dissolved into nothingness. But half a dozen of the possibilities reinforced existing possibilities with just enough oomph to nudge them into substantiating. A cascade of Emmet's pieces snapped into solidity, raking away most of the opponent's buttresses. After that, Emmet's opponent didn't move so quickly. She played several more moves and then resigned. Lucky, she muttered as she ended the game. Emmett wasn't sure if she was talking about the move, which had admittedly counted on luck or his win in general, which he felt was well earned. The game left Emmet with a jittery energy to burn off. He wandered the edges of the game hall, peering at the in progress games on the periphery. At the far side of the room, a raised dais hosted the games of True Gatta. True Gatta boards were extremely expensive, and this tournament was lucky to have four full sets. Emmet moved as close to the games as he could. He had, of course, seen games of True Gada on video, but this was the first time he had seen it in person. It was disorienting to watch, even for someone who had played as much ersatz as Emmet. Maybe being so used to the simulated game made the real thing feel even more weird. Emmet knew that the true game's exotic alien material could occupy multiple places in space at once, some more likely and solid, some more improbable and ghostly. Emmet's mom always said intentions matter, and that certainly was true in Gada. Emmett knew that players who wanted to make solid moves had to focus and keep other possible moves out of their head. But the game was about possibilities, and anyone who tried to always make single, firm moves was missing the point. As Emmett watched, the player's hands occasionally seemed to jump, shift in space, or be superimposed upon themselves when moving across the board. Emmett handily won his third game. It was a straightforward one in which Emmett's opponent played defensively and didn't really challenge Emmett's moves, as if he was more focused on avoiding mistakes than winning the game. The tournament's final round was after lunch. If Emmett could pull off one more win, he'd take first place in the division. It felt very possible, even probable. The stronger players at his school were more challenging than the players he was competing against in K Division. All through the lunch break, Emmet felt giddy. He tried to tell himself that his next game would be against the toughest opponent he'd play in the tournament, someone who had also won all their games. Still, when he swung by the trophy table shortly before the start of the last round, Emmett couldn't help but think about what he'd do with the prize. On the table were large trophies for the top few divisions, but better than that were the dozen or so cardboard presentation boxes, each one holding a true GATA game piece. Division champions would go home with a small alien artifact. Emmet could imagine the faces of his friends, and, even better, his haters, if he were to show off the game piece at school. When Emmett arrived at the table for his final game, he saw that his opponent was a visitant wearing a baggy coat and wrapped in a scarf. A soccer supporter scarf, Emmett guessed. Emmett had seen visitanches before. If you rode buses and trams as much as Emmett did, eventually you'd share one with an alien. Visitanches do not own cars, but he'd never spoken to one. I'm Emmett, he said as he slid into his chair. The visitant introduced itself in thin, brittle, eggshell words. My name is Joao. I'm pleased to meet you. Visitante voices sounded like they were speaking in a way their bodies were not intended to, kinda like when Emmet said the Pledge of Allegiance by burping. It was an awful game. Nothing Emmet did worked. It was like playing red hands against someone who could slap him whenever they wanted. It started out like a real match, but then, before he was ready, his hand stung with a slap he didn't see coming. Another slap as he tried to recover from the first, then slapped again and again. Emmet was a raw pair of hands that the Visitante could smack at its leisure. About two thirds of the way through the game, Emmet felt tears coming into his eyes. He let them roll down his face. Acknowledging them with a wipe would be worse. When it became too embarrassing to continue, Emmett resigned. A dialogue popped up on the tablet stating that the outcome had been recorded. The Visitante. Joao said something. What? Emmet asked. He could hear a quiver in his voice. I should not have played. Sorry. My parent did not want me to play in a more difficult division. It does not think Visitantes should lose at Gata. After a pause, Joao added, you played well. Emmet responded with a jerk of his head. That might have meant okay, or it might have meant shut up. Emmet wasn't really sure himself. Emmet called his dad for a pickup and then hung out for the award ceremony. When he returned to the table to get his backpack, the Visitante was there. Want to see it? It crackled, holding out the true Gadda piece. Despite himself, Emmet nodded and took the game piece from Joao's hand. Aside from feeling a little heavier than one might expect, it was solid and normal. Emmet squeezed it and then returned it to Joao. A bit reluctantly. The alien nodded and turned to leave. When Emmet looked up from gathering his bag, he saw Joao several tables away, staring at him. Joao raised its handologue above its head. For a moment Emmet thought it was waving goodbye, but then saw the Visitante was holding the Gata piece between two adapters. Then, in an instant, the gatepese disappeared and Emmet felt something in his fist. A fist he had not realized he was making. Opening his hand, he saw the gatepiece. For a moment, the whole day felt like a move that hadn't yet resolved. When Emmet looked up again, Joao was gone.

Alistair Stewart

Ethan says the story draws inspiration from my son's early adventures learning to play Go and from the experiences we shared competing as our first tournament. Where this story lives for me is in the way it uses the mundane and the alien to magnify each other. The mundane is the wonderful, tedious, local, universal experience of a tournament or a competition or a sporting event. Or just an event. I can see the tables they're playing on. I can hear the acoustics in the room. This is a Universal film. Third space. The place everything from CCG tournaments to magic shows at old folks homes, which I've done, to birthday parties which I've worked to take place in. You want to talk about the marketplace of ideas and if you do, dear God, why then? This is the marketplace of humanity. People being people. Messy, joyful, untidy, grumpy, unique. The alien is of course the visitantes, and I love the careful choice Hamm makes to name them that way. Also, the way this story drips feeds us the world building is just wonderful. The slow reveal of the game being a visible, branching, intoxicating tree of possibilities, the pieces not quite anywhere. The difference between the true game and the ersats. So smart, so subtle. But what I really love about this story is the common ground, the universality. Emmett's a good kid, balanced and calm and clever and maybe not as social as he wants to be. And also just starting to get a chip on his shoulder about how smart he is. I've been there. I think a lot of you have too. That moment where you sail out from confidence into arrogance and how difficult the journey there and worse, the journey back in is. I love too how his final opponent is the same kid just from a different direction. What he and Emmet don't have in common versus what they do, that final moment and the realization that the real game being played here is one they both get to win, just at slightly different speeds. I'm reminded of this quote from legendary game designer Reiner the goal is to win, but it is the goal that is important, not winning. Lovely, subtle work. Thanks to all. Onto the subject of subscribing and support, EscapePod has long survived on donations alone and even though this adds now, subscribing through our Patreon remains the best way to ensure we can keep bringing you one story told well. And if you subscribe at the seven but bucked here you can get rid of the ads. So if you would like to support what we and the rest of EA do, please join our patreon@patreon.com EA podcasts through your browser please, because that way both you and we will avoid being hit by App Store fees. If you prefer another method, there are details for supporting us via Twitch, Amazon prime, ko fi and PayPal on escape artists do. Or if you have an idea about something to do with donations and you want to talk to us about it, please email us@donationscapeartists.net with any questions and someone will get back to you. The Legal Bit Escape Pod is part of the escape Artists Foundation, a 501c3 non profit and this episode is distributed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non commercial no derivatives 4.0 international license. That means you can share it and please do. We love it when you share it, but you cannot sell it and you cannot change it. If you want specifics, check creativecommons.org and our music is, as ever, by the mighty Daikaiju, one last piece of the puzzle. EscapePod is proud to say that we have partnered with SleepPhones headphones to provide a special Escape Pod branded set of headphones. Sleepphones are soft headphones that you can wear while you sleep. They're comfortable, slim. Think of them as headphones in a headband. So you put the headband on, you unplug and you surround yourself in a sound experience without disturbing or better still being disturbed by the person next to you. Sleepphones were designed by a family doctor and they provide wearable comfort that is literally music to your ears. And they're available with both standard three 3.5 millimeter audio jacks and Bluetooth, which means at least four generations are going to be pretty happy with them. They're easy to clean, comfortable and now you can get them with our logo on the headband. And you can get a 10% discount off your order of the EscapePod branded SleepPhones if you use the coupon code ESCAPEPOD and that is to be clear, all one word. Follow the link in our show notes to sleeph phones and remember the code Escape pod to get 10% off. Thanks so much for joining us folks. We'll see you next week for more story time, but between now and then, have fun. Maybe play a game.

Narrator/Storyteller

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