#The Doctor#

The patient that I’d treated for alcohol poisoning had lived. It was a touch and go situation. The kid had shoved a cassette into my hand while I was treating him, and I just shoved it into a pocket in the scrubs I was wearing. I forgot about it, and then later, when I was taking my scrubs off, I found it.

#The Kid#

I pulled the cassette out of my pocket. It was Third Memory, my favorite microcomputer game. In the game, you unlock erased memories at random and play through them as if they’re happening for the first time.

Initially, I wasn’t particularly impressed; however, after repeated play, I explored path variations deeply connected to details that emerged. For example, I unlocked a memory where young children were teasing a girl about her weight. It reminded me of how awkward I felt.

The game had a cult following. I spent time on USNet and discovered message boards dedicated to the game and dissecting it for secret meanings.

What do think it means, when that giant Ostrich thing died, which was kind of absurd, but also sad.

I never encountered an Ostrich when I played. I was riding with my siblings when my mother ran the car up an embankment while driving in the rain.

From what I’ve heard, the next game might not get released. It’s being labeled pro-Tsarist.

Well, his games don’t quite adhere to Socialist Realism.

Does anyone know anything about the next game?

It Involves alternate realities. One in which the Russians surrendered during the World War and were overthrown by socialists, ending the Tsarist monarchy, and preventing them from being a world power.

Whatever. I didn’t like it at all. Now, The Jerusalem Engine, there was a great game. Got to love Scottish rugby players who are also secret agents.

I traveled to New York to see the National Gaming Exhibition of the Socialist US. At the exhibition I set out to find the High Castle game production company. As I approached their booth, an enthusiastic person met me with hand outreached.

#Doctor#

I reached out my hand and introduced myself to the Kid.

“That was quite a scare, you had there. I’d almost thought I’d lost you.”

The Kid simply stared at me.

“Do you often drink that much?”

Still no response.

“You know when you came in, you were vomiting and pissing all over yourself. We talked to the school administrators, and this isn’t the first time that this has happened. If you keep this up, you’re going to be dead. Now, go look in the mirror and see what a mess you look like.”

The Kid looked in the mirror and smiled.

#The Kid#

The enthusiastic person smiled. “Hello, would you like to learn more about High Castle games?”

“Is Gerald S, the game designer here?” I asked. “I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Matter of fact, I am Gerald S.”

“Holy shit, I’ve really wanted to meet you.”

“Really?”.

“Indeed. Third Memory is so amazing. It must have meant so much to you to be part of such an epic work.”

Gerald S laughed. “No, I didn't think that much of it. It was just another job, one of many projects."

“But surely, you must have meant something more to you than the others. It means so much to me.”

“Not really. I was creating a lot of games. I needed to make a quota.”

"But the inconsistency!"

"Inconsistency?"

“In part of the game, you’re a cowboy riding around in a pickup truck, but then with no explanation, you’re running a detention center for aliens. You were making a statement about the ephemeral nature of being and the realities that often go unnoticed."

"I don’t remember trying to make a statement. It was a mistake, most likely. I was on really strong pain medication when I programmed that one."

#The Doctor#

I needed the Litminov medication, an experimental drug. The Department for Public Health had dictated under what circumstances it was do be used and dispensed, criteria for eligible patients. As was the case with the rationing of medication at the polyclinics, it would have been difficult to obtain if I were a patient without paying for it under the table. However, I could get my hands on it by skimming off the inventory.

It was intended to preserve my memory, keep it from slipping into dementia. Sometimes, I thought that, rather than preserving my memories, it created decoherence, changing my memories, and the memories of those around me.

I take a pill. He takes one every 12 hours. Now, I had to have a conversation with this fucked up kid that almost died of alcohol poisoning this morning. What was this in my pocket?

#The Programmer#

“I see that you’re disappointed. Perhaps, you’d be interested in playing this game. It’s my latest, in 3-bit color, no less. Quite an achievement if I do say so myself.”

I had to admit I was impressed. 3-bit color in 1999. Wow! “Tell me more.”

“In this game you’re a Doctor, and you’ve just treated a young man for alcohol poisoning. The young man had had a disappointing encounter with an artist, whose work he had revered.

“You find a cassette in your pocket. You tell a coworker that the kid must have slipped it into your pocket while we struggled to treat him. I tried playing it, you say, but it just squealed and hissed. Maybe, it's part of that nonharmonic fad.

“The coworker turns the tape over in her hand. She doesn’t think it’s music. It's a microcomputer game. To play you put it in a special player hooked up to your personal microcomputer.

“I should return it to him, you say.

“But he’s dead, she responds.

“Ah yes, of course.

“You need another pill, so you go back into the stock room under the pretense of taking inventory."