"Paradox? If you view time as a linear flow, certainly. Not, however, if you finally pay attention to the ancients and regard time (not eternity) as a serpent biting its own tail, or perhaps a spiral."
Kage Baker, The Life of the World to Come
Methodological solipsists vs Area Man
When you write about past events, or when you contemplate them from the vantage of "eternity", you can afford to regard time as a serpent. You can assemble the pieces of the puzzle that is its skin with all the patience in Heaven, safe in the knowledge that it's all a done deal: only interpretation of history is susceptible to change, not the events themselves.
But, in most cases, for us down here in the mud of passing time, crawling through the days, worming our way to the future, you kind of have to experience time as a linear flow.
Stop creating universes please
While I love a good story, my first instinct is to dislike tales of
travel in the past - you can travel in the future all you want, no one
cares if you disappear, but don't you create a second version of the
universe by saving Joan of Arc from her judges or something like that. My brain hurts just thinking about it.
Did the above-quoted ancients delve into the intricacies of time paradoxes? From where I stand, for practical purposes, time is linear and causality needs to be paid its dues, hence the desire to eradicate paradox. This is an endless topic, fit for clear minds like Philosophy Bro, but my goal here is to grasp how time functions in the Company novels and how it can be used in a game.
Unicity and authenticity
There are two redeeming features in the way Kage Baker handles time travel in her novels.
1) There is one world, one continuum, one story and one history; only our knowledge of the past can be changed, though we retain our free will and can exercise it within the boundaries of the story. The Company tells (to itself) the story that the treasures lost to time and now recovered have in fact be made to disappear by them in the first place.
2) History is paid respect. It does not feel like a theme park. There is a sense of difference.
Gameplay around time
Paradox: since only one history does exist in the Company novels,
paradoxes that posit fundamental inconsistencies within the story are
unstable and prone to disappear once the whole story gets known. Getting
to explain how something is not paradoxical (hopefully gearing causality
your side in the process) can be a fun and meaningful gaming objective.
Flashbacks: they function differently in real life and in the diverse gaming media. Game mechanics can provide a framework to simulate flashbacks without breaking causality and unicity. Cyborgs do not fear permanent death, so that is one major hurdle out of the way to explain unlikely comebacks away. Every game could be a flashback, or it could be used the way it is used in movies, to highlight significant aspects of the story being told.
Uchrony: the clash of technologies and behaviors is savory and holds both comic and dramatic potential. But History is savored quite differently with a cyborg perspective. It could be interesting to have players and/or characters graduate to the truth of the universe, from simple mortals to cyborgs.
Phew! I almost divided by zero.
Playing with the Company 2: Theobromos
"Our masters were horrified when they discovered that chocolate gets us pleasantly stoned, because they thought they'd designed us to be proof against intoxicants. They even tried to forbid it to us, but must have realized they'd have a revolt on their hands if they did, and settled for strictly regulating our use of the stuff. Or trying to, anyway."
Kage Baker, The Children of the Company
In the Company novels, most cyborgs use and abuse of Theobromos (a.k.a. chocolate) whenever they can get their hands on some. This is at times a difficult proposition, given that operatives are sent in the human world for extended periods of time and in places that can be quite far from Mexico, Central and South America, the places of production of cacao for a large part of recorded history.
Theobromos is one of the more humorous elements in the series. The idea that Company employees get their kicks out of chocolate (not unlike Kage Baker used to herself, so it seems) deflates the testosterone-heavy stereotype of humorless super-agents from the future that springs to mind when you mention the words "immortal cyborgs". This attraction which borders on addiction reminds me, on a smaller scale, of the one of the Newcomers in the movie Alien Nation. Theobromos, when corporate policy does not prohibit it entirely, is certainly used as a carrot by the management. And the substance is not entirely harmless. Excess of consumption leads to "theobromine poisoning".
Ironically, the cyborgs, while technically removed from humanity, share more tastes with us than with their 24th century human masters who have given up on cigarettes, alcohol, meat, milk, sex and chocolate.
Does chocolate need game mechanics?
The question is open. Theobromos should remain an element of fun and stay on the periphery of things.
Gameplay could revolve around finding the balance between the thrill of forbidden food / joy of instant gratification and the risk of getting caught / losing status with your immortal employer.
Simulating addiction and pleasure is difficult due to the disconnection between the perception of the player and that of the character and the way our brain is wired to select different options depending on what our stomach tells us. I am tempted to use real chocolate on the gaming table in order to appeal to the real hunger of players. It is a difficult exercise: I would not want to frustrate the players out of proportion with the intended result. Perhaps, like children, they should be able to grab their candy when the management / game master looks the other way.
Kage Baker, The Children of the Company
In the Company novels, most cyborgs use and abuse of Theobromos (a.k.a. chocolate) whenever they can get their hands on some. This is at times a difficult proposition, given that operatives are sent in the human world for extended periods of time and in places that can be quite far from Mexico, Central and South America, the places of production of cacao for a large part of recorded history.
Theobromos is one of the more humorous elements in the series. The idea that Company employees get their kicks out of chocolate (not unlike Kage Baker used to herself, so it seems) deflates the testosterone-heavy stereotype of humorless super-agents from the future that springs to mind when you mention the words "immortal cyborgs". This attraction which borders on addiction reminds me, on a smaller scale, of the one of the Newcomers in the movie Alien Nation. Theobromos, when corporate policy does not prohibit it entirely, is certainly used as a carrot by the management. And the substance is not entirely harmless. Excess of consumption leads to "theobromine poisoning".
Ironically, the cyborgs, while technically removed from humanity, share more tastes with us than with their 24th century human masters who have given up on cigarettes, alcohol, meat, milk, sex and chocolate.
Does chocolate need game mechanics?
The question is open. Theobromos should remain an element of fun and stay on the periphery of things.
Gameplay could revolve around finding the balance between the thrill of forbidden food / joy of instant gratification and the risk of getting caught / losing status with your immortal employer.
Simulating addiction and pleasure is difficult due to the disconnection between the perception of the player and that of the character and the way our brain is wired to select different options depending on what our stomach tells us. I am tempted to use real chocolate on the gaming table in order to appeal to the real hunger of players. It is a difficult exercise: I would not want to frustrate the players out of proportion with the intended result. Perhaps, like children, they should be able to grab their candy when the management / game master looks the other way.
Playing with the Company: Kage Baker's legacy
"He'll be very clever, look at that score. And we'll take this figure for his strength, and this one for his alignment with the forces of good. Is that neat or is that neat?"
Kage Baker, The Life of the World to Come
In a series of books collectively known as the novels of The Company, Kage Baker tells the consequences of two technological breakthroughs in the 24th century: cyborg immortality and time travel. A company develops techniques to make people immortal (an ugly and unwholesome process) and to travel to the past (the future is out of reach) and back again. Intent on profiting from their technology, they send a cadre of technicians in prehistoric times. There -for simplicity's sake, let's use "there" instead of "then" when referring to narrative (rather than linear) time-, they kidnap Neanderthalian kids and pour all kinds of technology inside their little skulls. Essentially, they make them into cyborgs. They raise them, teach them everything they know in the 24th century, give them the keys to the past and then leave back to their clean and bland future. They instruct the new, permanent employees to retrieve all kinds of lost items and living things while staying in the shadow of official history, of the events that are already known to have occurred: history cannot be changed. The good little cyborgs do as they are told. They work for their employers, spiriting away treasures lost to time while Rome is burning, making the Company very, very rich in the process.
This article is not about discussing the books themselves. I urge you to read them. [For my French readers: only the first two have been translated.] The characters will grow on you and you will enjoy the humor, the action, the emotion. And, when you are done reading the main storyline and the standalone stories, while closing this last book you will be thirsty for more.
Gaming is a continuation of story by other means. This is the first in a series of articles about the gaming potential of the Company universe. And oh does it have potential. If you share the same belief and wish to contribute, get in touch with me, leave a comment and let's discuss.
Warning: the spoilers begin here.
Stakeholders
Like any company, the Company is host to an ecosystem of stakeholders with wildly different points of view, each of which could be explored in games.
- Shareholders
- Management
- Employees
- Customers
(The list could be longer.)
Some elements in the story are perfectly suited for adaptation to boardgame gameplay.
- For example, managers are torn between, on one hand, the desire to get rich by creating and employing many cyborgs, and, on the other hand, the need to control and survive their creations, a conundrum that is evocative of many crises. Multiple players can compete to be the richest (best bonus) while the game retains a collaborative element (everybody loses if the cyborgs take over).
- Other example: who knows who owns the Company who owns History? Who indeed? The players/shareholders might not know at start their own identity.
A roleplaying game
Mostly though, I believe The Company is an employee-focused pen-and-paper roleplaying game begging to be born. Each player would play an employee created by the Company and working for it. The totalitarian dimension of this proposition immediately springs to mind. We are reminded of a game such as Paranoia, especially in the way a huge gap separates official corporate policy and the everyday life and feelings of the employees. I am also reminded of the French game Thoan : Les Faiseurs d'univers, about Philip José Farmer's World of Tiers series. In a nutshell, the characters of Thoan have been created by mad demiurges and try to take control of their life and assault the heavens. The Promethean dimension is very much present in the Company series. The fact that the cyborgs cannot be killed displaces the core of the gameplay from murderous fight to a space where players need to pick their brains. There are conflicting imperatives and dramatic tension at multiple levels: between the will of the company and the will of the individual, between known history and hidden history, between the need to blend and the need to perform. The cyborgs, who have trouble relating to humanity due to their semi-artificial condition, need to adapt to and interact with a number of environments and situations. Social situations are an area where roleplaying games shine.
Themepark vs Sandbox
Kage Baker, The Life of the World to Come
In a series of books collectively known as the novels of The Company, Kage Baker tells the consequences of two technological breakthroughs in the 24th century: cyborg immortality and time travel. A company develops techniques to make people immortal (an ugly and unwholesome process) and to travel to the past (the future is out of reach) and back again. Intent on profiting from their technology, they send a cadre of technicians in prehistoric times. There -for simplicity's sake, let's use "there" instead of "then" when referring to narrative (rather than linear) time-, they kidnap Neanderthalian kids and pour all kinds of technology inside their little skulls. Essentially, they make them into cyborgs. They raise them, teach them everything they know in the 24th century, give them the keys to the past and then leave back to their clean and bland future. They instruct the new, permanent employees to retrieve all kinds of lost items and living things while staying in the shadow of official history, of the events that are already known to have occurred: history cannot be changed. The good little cyborgs do as they are told. They work for their employers, spiriting away treasures lost to time while Rome is burning, making the Company very, very rich in the process.
This article is not about discussing the books themselves. I urge you to read them. [For my French readers: only the first two have been translated.] The characters will grow on you and you will enjoy the humor, the action, the emotion. And, when you are done reading the main storyline and the standalone stories, while closing this last book you will be thirsty for more.
Gaming is a continuation of story by other means. This is the first in a series of articles about the gaming potential of the Company universe. And oh does it have potential. If you share the same belief and wish to contribute, get in touch with me, leave a comment and let's discuss.
Warning: the spoilers begin here.
Stakeholders
Like any company, the Company is host to an ecosystem of stakeholders with wildly different points of view, each of which could be explored in games.
- Shareholders
- Management
- Employees
- Customers
(The list could be longer.)
Some elements in the story are perfectly suited for adaptation to boardgame gameplay.
- For example, managers are torn between, on one hand, the desire to get rich by creating and employing many cyborgs, and, on the other hand, the need to control and survive their creations, a conundrum that is evocative of many crises. Multiple players can compete to be the richest (best bonus) while the game retains a collaborative element (everybody loses if the cyborgs take over).
- Other example: who knows who owns the Company who owns History? Who indeed? The players/shareholders might not know at start their own identity.
A roleplaying game
Mostly though, I believe The Company is an employee-focused pen-and-paper roleplaying game begging to be born. Each player would play an employee created by the Company and working for it. The totalitarian dimension of this proposition immediately springs to mind. We are reminded of a game such as Paranoia, especially in the way a huge gap separates official corporate policy and the everyday life and feelings of the employees. I am also reminded of the French game Thoan : Les Faiseurs d'univers, about Philip José Farmer's World of Tiers series. In a nutshell, the characters of Thoan have been created by mad demiurges and try to take control of their life and assault the heavens. The Promethean dimension is very much present in the Company series. The fact that the cyborgs cannot be killed displaces the core of the gameplay from murderous fight to a space where players need to pick their brains. There are conflicting imperatives and dramatic tension at multiple levels: between the will of the company and the will of the individual, between known history and hidden history, between the need to blend and the need to perform. The cyborgs, who have trouble relating to humanity due to their semi-artificial condition, need to adapt to and interact with a number of environments and situations. Social situations are an area where roleplaying games shine.
The corporate nature of the setting lends itself to making a mission-based game. In the books, cyborgs are tasked with precise assignments, such as to retrieve a flower, a painting, or even a whole people and their way of life.
At the same time, the setting leaves ample room for players to build their own sandcastles. Recorded history cannot be changed, but so much can happen in its interstices. Many elements within this open world environments are set in stone and cannot be changed, but the rest is fair game and is actually the place where the action should take place, given the importance of meaningful choices in roleplaying games.
It is far easier to accept if you forget about the philosophy behind; accept the contraries, that you have free will and that history cannot be changed, merely discovered in the way that suits you best.
Gamism / simulationism / narrativism
(Using Ron Edwards's definition.)
Gamism: there is competition in the series and there could well be around a gaming table. Player characters are co-workers in a mission-based environment, but they can pursue different endgames using the sandbox, like Nennius and Labienus.
Simulationism: if you accept that History cannot be changed even by the mighty dice, there are still elements of balance and uncertainty that can be identified and used for entertainment.
Narrativism: I do not envision the problems typical to licensed environments -"don't touch the canon"- because not touching the canon is part of the genes of the Company: players need to insert their own story into the bigger picture that is our world with its rich history, and its extra layer of invisible, Company-related history.
Gamism: there is competition in the series and there could well be around a gaming table. Player characters are co-workers in a mission-based environment, but they can pursue different endgames using the sandbox, like Nennius and Labienus.
Simulationism: if you accept that History cannot be changed even by the mighty dice, there are still elements of balance and uncertainty that can be identified and used for entertainment.
Narrativism: I do not envision the problems typical to licensed environments -"don't touch the canon"- because not touching the canon is part of the genes of the Company: players need to insert their own story into the bigger picture that is our world with its rich history, and its extra layer of invisible, Company-related history.
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