Ken Liu - Broken Stars

(This is, after all, a story from the ancient days, before solid state drives and fast broadband. Appreciate your good fortune as you marvel at how much trouble the ancients had to go through for a game.)

“My dear minister! What have you brought me?” The emperor was dressed in a loose-fitting, colorful shirt, already looking like a relaxed vacationer.

“It’s called Civilization .”

Li Si handed over the DVD—the demo was made in such a hurry that the title of the game had to be written on the back with a permanent marker (albeit in the chancellor’s beautiful seal script). A servant took the disc and slid it into a computer whose case was decorated with golden dragons, and gently pressed the “close” button. As the computer hummed, another servant took the opportunity to place an incense brazier next to the cooling fan, and sweet fragrance soon filled the whole great hall.

A third servant carefully wielded the mouse to begin the installation process. The whole hall waited impatiently as the computer fan sped up and hummed louder.

Five minutes later, the installation was complete. A fourth servant placed a mouse and a keyboard—wireless, nothing but the best in the palace—in a sandalwood tray and brought them to the emperor. A fifth servant knelt before the emperor—his robe was made of the same material as mousepads—and presented his broad, flat back to the throne.

Li Si spoke solemnly: “This game contains the essence of Legalism. The player must assume the role of a great leader and rule with ruthless precision. One must keep the big picture in mind without neglecting micromanagement. The emperor’s will is also the fate of all NPCs.”

“Sounds great!” The emperor picked up the mouse. Naturally, he picked himself as the leader to play on the opening screen.

At first, he did well. From a single city, he expanded to dominate the region. He even successfully won the race for the Pyramids as well as a few other wonders. The Great Wall, as a wonder, was rather useless, but Qin Shihuang rushed to build it anyway.

After that, he went to war. The “Chinese Civilization,” under the leadership of Qin Shihuang, was extremely aggressive. The emperor could not stomach the sight of any city on the map not under his rule. Starting from the Stone Age, he invested most of his resources in military units and was constantly at war. He was having a great time as the game reminded him of his own years of conquest.

But soon, he found the game less than enjoyable. The result of being so aggressive in the early game was that every other civilization viewed him as the enemy. He had no choice but to devote all his resources to military units and buildings. Cities rioted all over the map, protesting high taxes, lack of space, and the constant wars. The fire of rebellion swept the empire.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Li Si broke in. He coughed and tried to make his voice as soothing as possible. “It would be helpful to pay attention to the happiness levels of the citizens in the cities. A few city improvements to promote entertainment may be necessary. Remember, micromanagement. Micro.”

Qin Shihuang brushed this advice aside. He was the emperor! How could he possibly be expected to lower himself to worry about the happiness of some plebeians in a game?

“They are supposed to entertain me, not the other way around.” The emperor adjusted the entertainment expenditure slider all the way to zero, and then sacrificed a citizen to rush a catapult. “The people in the game are also my subjects. They should be glad to be sacrificed for the good of the empire!”

Predictably, this kind of policy did not improve his position. Soon, plagued by invasion and rebellion, his empire collapsed. Angrily, he terminated the game, clicking the mouse so forcefully that the mousepad servant trembled.

Luckily, Li Si had had the foresight to eliminate the feature of the game that evaluated the player’s performance against historical world leaders. Otherwise, it was likely that the emperor would have terminated more than the game.

Wiping the cold sweat from his brow, Chancellor Li backed away from the emperor. He had thought the emperor might choose the Emperor difficulty setting; instead, the emperor had picked Deity without hesitation. Well, that was a glimpse into Qin Shihuang’s character.

The next presentation came from Kong Fu, the ninth-generation descendant of Confucius himself and the leader of the Confucians. The game he demoed was called The Sims .

“This game has its origins in the ancient Zhou Dynasty, and we’re the only ones to revive it,” said Kong Fu proudly. The fact that the Confucians had inherited the uncorrupted source code of the Zhou Dynasty was something the entire school took enormous pride in, including the great sage Confucius himself.

“How do I play this?” asked the emperor. He had no interest in history, but he was rather curious about the game.

“Your Imperial Majesty, first, you must create a character, and then guide him through a simulated world. There, he must follow the rituals and enact the rites of Confucianism to give his life meaning. For example, you must visit your neighbors often to increase their friendliness toward you. As the Great Sage himself said, ‘Broaden the respect you have for your own aged parents to the parents of others; expand the love you have for your own children to the children of others.’ The heart of this game is the strengthening of social ties….”

The lecture bored the emperor. If he weren’t on vacation, he would have long ago called for soldiers to drag this pedant out. But he was supposed to be having fun, so he forced himself to endure the long tutorial. Finally, Kong Fu relinquished the mouse.

The emperor wanted to dig a swimming pool, but the game informed him that he didn’t have the necessary funds.

“What a joke,” the emperor muttered. “I possess the whole empire. Are you telling me I can’t afford to dig a hole in the ground?”

“As the emperor, you are the role model for all your subjects,” said Kong Fu. “Living a simple and frugal life is the right path. Spending so much on luxuries will lead to bankruptcy.”

“Why aren’t my neighbors coming to my house to honor me?” demanded the emperor.

“You have to visit them often and shower them with gifts to gradually bring up the level of your relationship. Only then will they come visit you. The game teaches us the importance of kindness and mutual respect, as the Great Sage—”

“Ridiculous!”

The emperor could barely contain his rage. He was the emperor, and everyone else was his subject. Who ever heard of the mighty emperor having to bribe some barbaric tribe with gifts so they’d come to pay their respects? What an insult!

The game was most definitely treasonous.

During the next month, the Qin Empire struck hard at the sale and manufacture of treasonous Confucian games. Thousands of illegal DVDs were confiscated from across the land, and more than four hundred game dealers were arrested. Under the emperor’s direction, soldiers dug a giant pit in the ground—not unlike a swimming pool—and the DVDs and game dealers were tossed into the pit and lit on fire.

The third presenter was the leader of the Mohists. Right away, he said to the emperor, “We Mohists are pacifists. We don’t advocate war and aggression. Thus, we brought a tower defense game. All you have to do is defend, defend, and defend some more.”

The computer screen showed a group of zombies on one side and some plants on the other.

“What are these zombies doing here?” asked the emperor.

“They’re the enemies of the empire.”

“What about these weeds and flowers?”

“They’re the empire’s most loyal guardians.”