Why?”
“We’re alumni.”
The Berkeley Military Academy for Game Studies – BEMAG – was built over the remains of Berkeley. The whole city became a military institute and, since most of San Francisco was abandoned while its buildings remained intact, it was the perfect grounds for battle simulations. One of the best mecha training schools was there as well, the pilots able to practice in the bay. Berkeley itself was isolated apart from the Academy students and a civilian staff of merchants who supported them.
“How is Berkeley these days?” he asked.
“They’re expanding.”
“Do they still have that Korean restaurant in the Asian ghetto? It was my favorite place for kimchee soup.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Akiko answered.
“What restaurants did you like?”
“I ate whatever food the cafeterias provided.”
“Let me guess. You graduated near the top of your class?”
“I ranked ninth,” she answered. He was impressed. BEMAG remained one of the top military institutes, second only to the Military Academy in Tokyo. “What about you?”
“Near the bottom – 682.” Out of 684, he didn’t add.
“That’s bad.”
Ben laughed. “I shouldn’t have gone. A military board felt I deserved a chance and got me in on one of their special requisitions. Other students hated me for it because they felt I cheated my way in.”
“Your faculty reports said you spent more time chasing women than studying.”
“Guilty.”
“I’ve looked at the records of the rest of your class. You have one of the most undistinguished records.”
“Being a censor is an important role,” Ben said.
“Most of your fellow officers served with honor in San Diego.”
“They were smarter and more talented than I was.”
“Of all the officers I have visited, you are the first to be so eager to put yourself down.”
“I’m just an honest appraiser. Where is her apartment?”
“Downtown. We’re almost there.”
10:15AM
Downtown Los Angeles was full of tall buildings and a city hall that was architecturally based on the Imperial Castle in Osaka. Huge portical screens displayed advertisements and newsreels of various victories in the Empire’s war efforts. A massive mecha that was fifty meters tall and shaped like a man in a samurai suit patrolled the streets. Its mobility was limited so that it didn’t cause too much of a commotion when it moved, rolling via the massive wheels under its feet. Soldiers in rocket packs glided next to the mecha on routine patrols. There were a few people heading to restaurants for an early lunch.
Claire Mutsuraga’s apartment was in an eighty story high-rise. There was already a guard at the door and the interior of the apartment was a mess, having been searched earlier by the police. It was a three-bedroom unit, with wood floors and what had once been brand new furniture, though the sofas and mattresses had been ripped open by the police. There were several marble statues, fancy French paintings, and a holographic projector in the middle of the living room.
“Pretty ritzy place for a student,” Ben noted. “I guess that’s the perks of having a general for your dad.”
He saw a series of picture frames and remembered the general’s face. Mutsuraga was the game designer who had made the Honor of Death series, one of the most revered franchises in portical gaming. He saw Mutsuraga’s last few games on her wall, massive hits covering the Chinese Rice Insurrection and the Korean Civil War.
“What was your relationship to the general?” Agent Tsukino asked.
“I served under him.”
“Did you like your service?”
“Mutsuraga was a legend among gamers. I was honored to serve him.” Ben scratched an itch on the side of his wrist. “He was the most decorated officer in his class and we were all told to follow his example.” There were pictures of the general at his own graduation on the wall surrounded by
“We’re alumni.”
The Berkeley Military Academy for Game Studies – BEMAG – was built over the remains of Berkeley. The whole city became a military institute and, since most of San Francisco was abandoned while its buildings remained intact, it was the perfect grounds for battle simulations. One of the best mecha training schools was there as well, the pilots able to practice in the bay. Berkeley itself was isolated apart from the Academy students and a civilian staff of merchants who supported them.
“How is Berkeley these days?” he asked.
“They’re expanding.”
“Do they still have that Korean restaurant in the Asian ghetto? It was my favorite place for kimchee soup.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Akiko answered.
“What restaurants did you like?”
“I ate whatever food the cafeterias provided.”
“Let me guess. You graduated near the top of your class?”
“I ranked ninth,” she answered. He was impressed. BEMAG remained one of the top military institutes, second only to the Military Academy in Tokyo. “What about you?”
“Near the bottom – 682.” Out of 684, he didn’t add.
“That’s bad.”
Ben laughed. “I shouldn’t have gone. A military board felt I deserved a chance and got me in on one of their special requisitions. Other students hated me for it because they felt I cheated my way in.”
“Your faculty reports said you spent more time chasing women than studying.”
“Guilty.”
“I’ve looked at the records of the rest of your class. You have one of the most undistinguished records.”
“Being a censor is an important role,” Ben said.
“Most of your fellow officers served with honor in San Diego.”
“They were smarter and more talented than I was.”
“Of all the officers I have visited, you are the first to be so eager to put yourself down.”
“I’m just an honest appraiser. Where is her apartment?”
“Downtown. We’re almost there.”
10:15AM
Downtown Los Angeles was full of tall buildings and a city hall that was architecturally based on the Imperial Castle in Osaka. Huge portical screens displayed advertisements and newsreels of various victories in the Empire’s war efforts. A massive mecha that was fifty meters tall and shaped like a man in a samurai suit patrolled the streets. Its mobility was limited so that it didn’t cause too much of a commotion when it moved, rolling via the massive wheels under its feet. Soldiers in rocket packs glided next to the mecha on routine patrols. There were a few people heading to restaurants for an early lunch.
Claire Mutsuraga’s apartment was in an eighty story high-rise. There was already a guard at the door and the interior of the apartment was a mess, having been searched earlier by the police. It was a three-bedroom unit, with wood floors and what had once been brand new furniture, though the sofas and mattresses had been ripped open by the police. There were several marble statues, fancy French paintings, and a holographic projector in the middle of the living room.
“Pretty ritzy place for a student,” Ben noted. “I guess that’s the perks of having a general for your dad.”
He saw a series of picture frames and remembered the general’s face. Mutsuraga was the game designer who had made the Honor of Death series, one of the most revered franchises in portical gaming. He saw Mutsuraga’s last few games on her wall, massive hits covering the Chinese Rice Insurrection and the Korean Civil War.
“What was your relationship to the general?” Agent Tsukino asked.
“I served under him.”
“Did you like your service?”
“Mutsuraga was a legend among gamers. I was honored to serve him.” Ben scratched an itch on the side of his wrist. “He was the most decorated officer in his class and we were all told to follow his example.” There were pictures of the general at his own graduation on the wall surrounded by
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