“Yes, sir,” Maj replied, dreading hearing Winters order them off the firing line. But she didn’t want to wait. “Are we going to stay involved in this?”
Winters hesitated. “At this point I don’t have enough authority to get a team from Net Force down there. And if I did, Jay Gridley and I feel showing up in force prematurely would make Heavener and her employers shut down. Whatever they’ve got planned, it’s been underway for a long time. There’s no guarantee that if they backed away from the operation here that we’d have nullified it. And whatever they’re planning may even be in play now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The convention lasts another three days,” Winters went on. “For now, I want you and the rest of your team to keep your eyes and ears open and to stay away from Heavener and her group.”
Maj nodded.
“And keep me apprised of any changes in the situation immediately.”
“Of course. Could I ask a question?”
“Certainly.”
“I need to know about Agent Roarke.” Maj felt guilty for bringing it up. Winters stood firmly behind anyone he put into the field.
“Jon Roarke,” Winters said, “has a lot of abrasive qualities, but he’s a good man. Before he got this assignment, he was on administrative leave.”
“He achieves his assignments,” Winters said, “but his manner of achieving them has sometimes left muddied waters. Even so, I feel lucky to get him.”
“Thank you,” Maj said. “That’s what I needed to know.”
Winters said good-bye and faded from the room.
Maj peered out the hotel windows at the early morning sunshine breaking over downtown Los Angeles’s skyline. Despite the promise of sunlight, a cold feeling of dread seeped into her.
20
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Andy Moore said, jerking a thumb at Leif Anderson.
“I protest,” Leif said, dropping into a cross-legged position on the carpet in Maj’s hotel room. “There was no dragging of cats or other creatures in any of the gaiety I involved myself in.”
“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” Andy said, pointing to the tuxedo Leif wore. “Isn’t it premature to go out partying again?”
“Again?” Leif squared up the wilted carnation in the jacket’s boutonniere. “Actually, anyone who wimped out after the banquet last night missed the real parties where business was done. I was scouting the terrain.” He glanced up at the huge breakfast cart room service had brought up at Maj’s request. “Are those muffins?”
Maj scooped a muffin up from the tray. “Blueberry.”
“My favorite.” Leif took the small saucer with the muffin Maj passed to him. He sighed contentedly.
“You’ve been out partying till now?” Catie asked in disbelief.
“Yes.” Leif broke the muffin into halves and munched, then swallowed. “I had a few glasses of champagne and lots of coffee, but nothing to eat. Crumbs on a tux are just too tacky, especially when you’re trying to impress corporate execs who don’t admit to human frailties.”
Maj sat in one of the room’s chairs, her knees pulled up beneath her chin and her feet resting on the chair seat. All of the Net Force Explorers were gathered in her room, getting ready to descend on the convention center. “Were any of the meetings productive?”
“Most of them, no. However, I did get some information on Eisenhower Productions that was very interesting.” Leif took another bite.
“Okay, consider the time limit on the dramatic pause over,” Matt advised. He sat in the floor as well, the right side of his face a mask of purple bruising.
“If you’d looked at the business history of Eisenhower Productions two years ago,” Leif said, “you’d have felt certain the corporation was about to go under. They hadn’t had a solid hit title in four years. With the inflated cost of doing business after having a few profitable years, they’d cut designers and programmers from the payroll.”
“That’s stupid,” Andy snorted. “If you can’t make anything, how are you supposed to sell anything?”
“They tried to make it by just publishing games independent designers came up with. That didn’t work out too well. The guys at the top of the corporation were coasting, getting by on residuals from earlier games that still sold. Frankly, they were on a slow boat to bankruptcy.”
“But two years ago,” Maj said, “something happened.”
“Peter Griffen approached them and started negotiating the release of Realm of the Bright Waters. He’d put together concept art, computer graphics, the story line, and some gameplay. They knew they had a winner on their hands. The only sticking point was that Peter would be the one to set the actual release date. However, at that time Eisenhower was two months away from insolvency.”
“They didn’t tell Peter that,” Maj said.
Leif shook his head. “It would have been suicidal on their part. Peter was even picking up the tab for most of the development so he could maintain control over the game. They didn’t try to buy out any more of the interest than Peter was willing to sell.”
“Because they didn’t have the money,” Megan said.
“Bingo. However, they weren’t going to survive. They were desperate, so they started trying to find someone else to pick up their tab while they waited on Peter.”
“Why should anyone touch them?” Matt asked. “All they’d have to do was wait them out, let their contract and deal go south, then go to Peter.”
“Right,” Leif agreed. “And I’ll bet the CEOs and production managers handling the deal were on the verge of total melt-downs. Here was a goose that laid golden eggs, and they couldn’t even wait around for the first one to drop.”
“Why did Peter pick Eisenhower Productions?” Maj asked. “There were probably other corporations just as approachable.”
“There were,” Leif agreed. “It was just luck of the draw. However, the funding they got is like a national secret. Two years ago somebody poured a mountain of liquid cash into Eisenhower’s coffers. That’s how they were able to do all the marketing for the game today, and how they were able to shore up Peter when his money ran dry.”
“It’s a wonder Eisenhower didn’t try to strong-arm Peter when he was down,” Andy said.
“The way I hear it,” Leif replied, “they did. Only Peter stood his ground, offering to shut the game down till he did other work to pay for it, or take a loan out for the necessary funding from them. They gave him the funding and at a decent interest rate.”
“Where did the other cash come from?” Maj asked.
Leif shrugged. “No one knows. But that’s what they’re telling me happened.”
“Someone believed in Peter’s game,” Catie commented. “That’s the only thing that would have made them invest.”
“But why do it secretly?” Megan asked. “Why not just step forward, buy Eisenhower Productions out if the game was that good, and restructure the deal with Peter? This other corporation could have put pressure on Peter, put him in court with no money, and taken what they wanted.”
Andy shook his head. “Sheesh, you’re beginning to sound like a financial adviser.”
“Profit Channel on HoloNet,” Megan replied. “As the daughter of a writer, you’d be surprised how much extraneous information you pick up.”
“Because whoever invested wanted Peter handling the game,” Leif said.
“Yet Eisenhower wouldn’t let Peter bring Oscar Raitt in when there were game engine design problems. Oscar told me that cost another two months of time to straighten out.”
