SOFTWARE FAIR by Ford Prefect In a little tiny house in a little tiny village near a little tiny field, with a little tiny stream lived a rather large wizard with an amazingly large computer. His name was Norman, but most people called him by his title "The Maven". The Maven was a sorcerer, who could make brilliant works spring from his fingers onto his supervga screen and impress the heck out of all his friends. Often, late at night, when the stars were in the right places, and the moon was half-full, and the coke was in the fridge and the Maven's head was full of ideas, he would often be seen at his desk, fingers flying on his 101full-click keyboard, and his telephone attached to his ear, chatting with his friends while mumbling mantras into his processor. One day the Maven went walking along a street in the village, when he stumbled upon a little boy. The little boy, who was named Ben, took an immediate liking to the Maven and grabbed the Maven's legs. "Daddy," said Ben. "Go away," said the Maven. Soon Ben's mother appeared, a slender, well-formed young lady: "She-of- the-high-pitched-voice" was what most people called her, affectionately, though not to her face. The Maven watched, and helped, as Ben's mother Willun peeled Ben from the Maven's leg, and led him away carrot-and-stick style with an ice-cream cone the Maven watched with amazement as the child proceeded to do strange, loud, and obnoxious things to other people along the street as Willun and he walked away. The Maven happened to be strolling past another ice-cream shop in this village, well known for it's ice cream shops, , later on that day, when he noticed Willun and Ben inside. I was working behind the counter, it being the latest vocational expression for me, and I was serving a lovely raven-haired beauty. "Will that be all, miss Deon?" "Thank you, yes." She smiled at me, while trying to push money my direction. I ignored that, and yelled at the Maven to come inside for some ice cream. He wandered inside. It would have been difficult to ignore the total and indiscreet jaw-dropping the Maven underwent when he got full view of the young miss Deon's loveliness. But it was not to be. Miss Deon went and sat next to a young man, named Corey, after the famous rock singer "Corey Hart" I believe, he of no known pseudonym. They were across the booth from Willun and Ben, and enjoyed a wonderful snack. I left the store with the Maven, who had seemed to undergo a complete brain-removal in a few short seconds. Down in the valley, down by the river, down by the old oak tree down by the fountain, down by the mission, where the Maven told me all about life, and love, and the intricacies of infatuation and the futilities of true love. I didn't understand a word of it, but it was nice to hear. We sat a long time by the stream, munching yummy candies and playing loud music with rocks and branches. Eventually we got in the Maven's Maven-mobile, and drove out along the beach. The sun set, the moon rose, the stars came out. The Maven was interested in the mysticism of the stars, the astronomy, the forces beyond any control that struggle with our souls. he told me. We ran along the beach, after taking off our shoes, and studied the phosphorescence in the waves, reflecting on the morality of things. We laughed, we joked, we generally verbally abused each other. We ran into AntiSocialMan. When AntiSocialMan picked himself up from the sands, we kicked him down again. No, we didn't, but it was running through our minds. When AntiSocialMan picked himself up from the sands, we were happy to recognize him and joyful in his health. He said "Grunt." We asked him what he was doing out here in the middle of the boonies. He said he was on a secret mission, and proceeded to tell us all about it. When he was finished, I said "that's not very secret, is it?" He said that subtlety wasn't his forte. The Maven and I believed him. And then we helped him on his quest. END OF PART 1 "Never Fear! AntiSocialMan is Here! first with all your wants and desires, he will make fun of them for you! all your musical tastes and aspirations he will laugh at them for you! he's AntiSocialMan, and he's here to generally abuse you!" PART 2 The sun had just started to peek over the edge of the mountain-tops of the east as we trundeled along in the Maven's shiny truck. The dusty road was pockmarked like a teenager's cheek, with potholes the size of pizzas that the Maven avoided with a skillful accuracy that AntiSocialMan and I marveled at. AntiSocialMan was sitting next to the Maven, and I was crunched next to the passenger-side door, as we shaked and rattled our way to the scene of AntiSocialMan's Waterloo. Now, as I have forgotten to mention, the village lay in the shadow of a huge fortress, called Citadel, wherein the leader of all the villagers resides. His demesnes is the hub of activity all over the land, that position most magicians, sorcerers, and wizards strive for. I, being a lowly restaurant worker and part-time conjurer, had no doubts that I would never have a chance for it, but hey. and what do you know. Every few months, the Citadel keeper is usurped and the torch passed along to a new magician of the land, one who accepts the mantle of keeping standards all over the community. For the past few years, the Dragon has reigned well and justly, accepting suggestions from the peasants and keeping everyone satisfied. A few weeks earlier, he had claimed a willingness to retire his post and move to a bigger and better city, where his talents as a magician might even please the king. He will allow himself to be defeated, therefore throughout the land, there are many who will try for the position of Citadel-keeper. AntiSocialMan has been working hard for this day, he says. His weapon is honed and sharp, his talents are quick and useful. His knowledge is vast and his configuration strings huge. He thinks his sword might defeat the great Dragon, and people will bow down to his greatness and ask his blessings We approach the Software Fair. Colorful tents have been set up, bright flags are flying, jesters and jugglers tease and amuse the crowd. Music streams from all sources. The Maven searches around for a place to park, and we get out near the gate. After a few minutes of being bitched at for not locking the door, we start in. I turn back and notice The Maven, unseen by AntiSocialMan, baring a fine rapier, testing its edge, and sheathing it by his side. I give him a questioning look, as if to say "are you entering the contest then?" and he smiles quietly to himself. After buying cotton candy for AntiSocialMan and candy apples for me and long, round, orange dildo icee pops for the Maven, we stroll down the fairway looking for people. We notice a group of upper-level mages down by the Ferris Wheel. We shout a familiar greeting. "300 baud!" They turn, and shout back at us. "Ninety six!" one says. "One four four!" says another, one I recognize as Mad Lou . He's got a large broadsword strapped to his back. "One hundred fifty!" shouts a third, a card, a joker, known as Thanatos. He and Z'ton are planning to enter together, I remember. They both have identical broadswords. However, Thanatos is rather tall, so his broadsword is slung on his belt. We meet up with them, Z'ton, Thanatos, and a lovely young lady called li-SA!. The six of us chat for a while, and decide to wander down the fairway in search of a few others they'd seen earlier, and maybe we can wreak some havoc before the big games. We try some of the games , for example we throw big softballs at milk-bottles, even knowing that the softballs are weighted on one side with sewn-in lead weights. None of us win anything there. Thanatos and I try our luck at Skee-ball, which is a fun way of throwing away money by trying to get balls into holes, each hole with a different denomination. We don't win anything here, either. The Maven and li-SA! and Z'ton throw rings, trying to get the rings on bottlenecks. the Maven does, and jumps up and down in a fit of immature ecstasy. We all laugh and spill our drinks on him. The proprietary of the game hands him a big yellow stuffed bear, and the Maven proceeds to bury his face in it, getting big hunks of snot all over the damn thing. With ceremony, he hands it to li-SA! and hopes she enjoys it. She wipes it off, of course. From across the field, the big horns blow excelsior. The sun is high in the sky, mid-day, so that means one of two things. For me, it means lunchtime, so I look hungrily over at the food stalls and smell the roasting chickens, the duck, the beef. I see the lemonade stands, it being such a warm day, the cold sweet lemonade... I begin to wander in that direction when Thanatos and AntiSocialMan and Z'ton start racing off toward the field. The big grassy field. The big, warm, grassy field, in which the players will fight out for the championship. I knew lunchtime had a different meaning for SOMEBODY. Even the Maven is walking, quickly, in that direction. I ignore my stomach for the moment and zip off in the direction of the field. Surrounding the playing area are viewing stands, comfortable theatre- style seats replete with banners and bunting. Sitting in the seats are all the members of the village, and a few from surrounding systems, like Stonehenge and Ironhenge, to watch the proceedings. In the front row, where he can see all the players, Joo-Sama sits upon his big comfy armchair. Next to him is the lovely and intelligent Ronnie, his Lady. Next to her is her Lord, Buckaroo Banzai. Don't ask, it's complicated. The horns blare again, and I glance at the Maven as we step on the field. "So you're really going through with this, aren't you?" "Yeah, I guess. Nothing better to do to-day." He smiles a big smile, and unsheaths his blade. It's a shiny gold release, engraved and inlaid with silver are the letters "MavenCit" on it. I whistle appreciatively. "Good luck, my friend." "Thank you, but I don't think I need it." "My friend the optimist. Have fun, then, Maven." He smiles, and I take my leave of him. He goes to one of the many circles chalked out on the field. I wander over to AntiSocialMan. I think about our relationship. We're married, even though we don't live together. He's a fun husband, and deserves more than I can offer at this time. I smile at him as I approach. He's bending and doing stretching exercises. He looks up at me. "Remember my mission?" he smirks. I think for a moment. "Yes, I remember. Do you honestly believe it will work?" "It will. It HAS to. Otherwise my life is nil, save music." "You'd save music even in the event of a nuclear holocaust." "Damn right," he snorts, snot flying out of his nose. I dive out of range, and circle warily until he's back in control. He opens his mouth in a strange, grimacing sort of a smile, to show off his freshly straightened teeth, I believe. I smile back. "If your plan works, do you think there's aide status in it for me? I mean, moral support and everything." "No, shut up." I pass Pink, with a beautiful, if antiquated mace. I smile at him, we've never been properly introduced. He nods and goes back to polishing and repolishing it. Fred is in another circle. I recognize him from afar, and wave. At the circle closest to Joo-Sama's post, Z'ton and Thanatos are arguing. I'm not surprised. as I approach, I can make out their noises. It's a valid point they're arguing, but their timing isn't very good. "Look, Garth, we need to use my modem for this combat. It's fast! It's ninety six HST! We need it, to have half a chance against the Maven's one- hundred thirty six K monster." "Lou, it doesn't matter, modemspeed wise. We need a init string that is compatible with ALL modems, and people will accept variability a lot more than they will accept standardized difference." "But look at AntiSocialMan! He's variablized his ENTIRE setup, and what has that got him? Slower speed!" "Speed speed speed! Think of something else for a change-- oh, hello, ford." "Yeah, hi ford. Come to wish us luck?" Z'ton, great guy, never really gets upset. He grins a huge grin as his fangs glitter in the noon-day sun. "Guys, I know this is tough for you, but can't you just agree on something?" I laugh as they sheath their blades again. Thanatos starts to say something, but the horns blare a third time, this time for a long time. A dignitary speaks, as I look for an empty seat. "ford! ford!" I look at the dignitary, who I could barely hear, yet he wasn't the one calling my name. "...Wish to request all spectators and well-wishers off the grid for the remaining time..." "ford! Hey, ford! Yo! WEED!" I turn, and a vision of beauty assaults my senses. The strident visage of femininity rushes into my arms and my heart melts. "Jabberwock," I say. We find a seat, high up where we can see all of our friends, and listen to the speaker. The dignitary, who is known as Beowulf, an old and wizened character from across the way, who is a strict believer in Stonehenge and it's teachings and beliefs, stands at the podium and speaks REAL LOUD. "We wish to announce the games of Misty Shores [I had forgotten to mention the name of the village, Misty Shores] beginning in just a few moments. But first can we have a big round of applause for all our contestants, and the effort that they put into this big day. We all know, in our hearts, that each one of them is a winner in his and her own right, and each one deserves accolades in their outstanding achievement." "Fine, then, let's hear it for our friends!" Beowulf shouts. "Okay, okay. Calm down already." Beowulf prepares himself, and then employs some wizardian magic: "DOT ESS KAY! NULL TEE YES!" Silence appears like a aching secret in a crowded room, and people notice themselves not being heard anymore, and sit quietly. Even Jabberwock and I sit down again. "And now, in honor of our esteemed leader and benefactor, a round of applause for Joo-Sama as I award him with the title and medal of true charisma, courage and systems analysis, as I title him 'Programmer From Hell.'" "A few words, then, from Joo-Sama himself." Joo-Sama steps up to the podium, full decked in flying colors and long braided hair. He starts "For the past two years-" "Two years- "Two years-" Ronnie hits him, hard, and he shakes himself and continues. "I have been working on Citadel and making it a wonderful thing indeed. Now I believe it is time to allow other, better systems a real chance, a time of growth and maturity throughout the land. It is here that we will determine the next Citadel-keeper, and we will grant him the title this very afternoon." Joo-Sama looks out among his followers and his friends, and finishes: "And so, without any further ado, let the games begin!" Joo-Sama rips off his colorful outerclothings, exposes himself as a man in a t-shirt and jeans, and runs down to the center of the field, in the biggest circle. His amazing greatsword shines in the air as he stretches it toward the sky. He pushes it up, directly to the straining point, at that moment a flash of lightning bursts down and hits the sword lightly. Joo-Sama is shaken, but he starts his mantra as his entire body turns a bright blue. "What's he doing?" asks Jabberwock, in my ear, as people around us stare amazed. "He's praying to the great god Cynbe Ru Taran, creator of the Citadel." He grasps his sword in both hands, making great circular motions with it. The sword is glowing a deep, majestic blue as it spins, leaving bits of flux and illiaster in its wake. The Maven gives a WHOOOP! and throws his sword in the air, light green fire splaying from his fingers, directing the swords path. the sword spins in the air, turning point-down, and the Maven makes short, pulling motions. the sword starts screaming down from the sky and embeds itself in the ground, with a thunderous shaking noise illiaster bursts from the ground. All the other players begin their struggle, from our viewpoint we can see a rainbow of bright, shining illiaster domes in the circles. The flux, the barest programmable substance, the stuff which is made into real program, shines with a effervescence like no other. The wizards are programming their own, peculiar style, creating their own citadel out of nothing but their minds and flux. Z'ton and Thanatos are spinning their webs intricately and well, the shining red dwarfish star is a brilliant start to what promises to be a beautiful sight indeed. I watch AntiSocialMan with interest, and intrigue. He seemed to get off on a bad start. His flux is limited, granted though his style unique and useful. His sword, Elegia, makes jittering starts and shakes. His illiaster is overlayed, which itself could be bad, but his orange citadel is slowly rising out of the ground with class. "Who are you rooting for, ford?" Jabberwock turns to me. "I dunno. You know I'm rooming with Thanatos, but I kind of am surprised with the Maven. I wasn't ready for his entry... even though we talk on the phone late at night when the stars are in the certain places and the moon is half-ful and the coke is in the fridge. But AntiSocialMan is my husband, and I would like to see him win too...." I shrugged. "Jabber! ford!" We leaned back and saw Willun and Megan arriving, Ben in tow. Ben seemed totally entranced by the flashing colors and shifting, glinting weaponry. "Whoah," Ben kept saying. "Joo-Sama seems to be on the second phase of his Citadel," I mention. Indeed, the very rough outline of a citadel showed through in a haze of blue fog, the outline in brilliant blue fire. "So what does that mean?" Jabberwock asks. Willun answers that one. "He's finished creating the program, now he's going to run it through the compiler, assembler, and linker." "What?" I interject. "It's like he's washing his car, you know? First it's wetted, then it's run through the brushes, several sets, right? He's running his program through several brushes next." "Oh." Jabberwock peers down to the field, and watches closely. I see the Maven's work racing along, his green citadel glowing and throbbing to some music I couldn't hear. I could see him and knew enough of citadel to see what he was doing: writing preliminary helpfiles. "It's all so chaotic, yet so fascinating," Megan says, a statement. "You got it, girl. I don't know how they do it. I can barely write in basic," Willun says. "It seems so much fun, too. Look at them strain." We looked. We pointed out Thanatos and Z'ton running in circles trying to keep enough bells and whistles on it to please everyone, but the superficial errors kept masking the fundamental design flaws. Spinning around the bottom of the circle was a continuous signature line: "Red Dwarf. Hell. Twitcit. Do it for culture!" I wondered how quickly Twitcit would take to compile... it's a few minutes with Garth's system, and speed does make a difference somewhat in the creation of a program. Thanatos' and Z'ton's swords moved in a graceful, sliding dance that the two professional sorcerers could only have choreographed previously. It was such a sight. AntiSocialMan was in the middle of compiling when his modem broke down... he left the field. I heard him screaming bloody murder at one young man I couldn't... quite... make out... oh yes. He was begging and pleading The Infinite Blue to lend him his modem. I hoped that that would work out. The Maven was already into his compile... and then... he was done. I was mightily impressed, as were most of the people in the stands. It took just long enough to actually watch it being done, but if you didn't need to watch, it would have been done a lot quicker. The Maven beamed and beamed. It was getting close now. Joo-Sama was starting configuration... and his citadel began to grow. It grew with leaps and bounds, reaching upwards to the sky. I turned to say something to Jabberwock and looked her in the eyes... when I heard the Maven screaming about a power spike. I looked and his entire fortress, his whole work was dying slowly and badly. Yellow sparks were streaming from the work. I stood up. I could easily see anger and resentment flashing across his face, then confusion, and finally tears. I ran down to the field. He sat down, in the midst of citadels being in the third stage and began to weep. "What are you doing? You can't give up now!" "Leave me alone. I'm done for." He put his head in his arms and sobbed, long and heavy sobs from deep in his throat. "No! I won't let you! Stand up, damn you, and get MavenCit running!" He just sat there. "You've got the best system going. You can do it. You can usurp Joo- Sama and he will pass you the torch. I believe in you, Maven. If anything, if to combat AntiSocialMan's plan and mission in life." He snorted, though not in the same way as AntiSocialMan or Jabberwock. "His mission in life? That's funny. He expects his citadel to win, and then to be transferrable one way to the Nevermind, and then for Willun to fall in love with him. It's a joke." "It might work." I was pleading, almost in tears myself. "Big deal." I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and a raven-haired beauty stood behind me. The Maven didn't notice. I turned to go, but she shook her head to stay. "I think I'm not the only one that wants you to continue," I said. He looked up. Megan bent down to him, and whispered "Close your mouth." The Maven's slackjaw snapped shut, and Megan kissed him sweetly, gently, and stood up again. "For me, Norman. Create it for me," and she turned to go. Honalee was a mighty big Citadel, a beautiful work in blue overlay and stressed relief. It stood proud and tall, like a child who has completed a nice picture in school, next to his great green giant of a father, the Mavenry. The Mavenry was the biggest, strongest, most reliable system throughout the field. The twin peaks of Hell and Red Dwarf, created for with and by TwitCit, were impressive in their own right, and Alteredimages. was a truly original piece of art Jabberwock and I looked out across the grid of citadels with frank amazement. The theme from "Chariots Of Fire" was running through my head. I squeezed her gently, as we watched my friend the Maven standing upon the podium. Beowulf was there, there were flowers in the air, and Joo-Sama, still shaken, stood reverently and handed the Maven the burning torch. The torch turned from red to green as it passed hands. **************************************** "You two need a ride home?" were his first words as we approached him after the ceremony. I didn't say anything but smiled some more. Jabberwock asked him if he was going to the coffee break later in the day, and he said he didn't know. "So, Maven, how does it feel knowing you wrote an extremely good program on your cheap pc? I mean even not thinking about the fact that your 486 died a horrible death out there on the field?" AntiSocialMan was here, we could tell. "Ha!" the Maven accepted AntiSocialMan's outstretched hand and shook it warmly. "It wasn't that bad, really..." he said, referring to Alteredimages. "Just don't expect me to call or anything." AntiSocialMan went on to say how in his own creativity, Willun had fallen madly in love with him and was now waiting for him on a grassy knoll somewhere, and he had to be going. "Take care, Anti," I said. "You have something there, with Elegia, you know... aide?" "No, shut up." And then he was gone. The Maven and Jabberwock and I went to find something to eat, and he kept wiping his face on my towel. It was getting to be a rather hot day, in fact. We ran into Z'ton and Thanatos and li-SA! again, after a bit. They weren't too upset about the upset, but expected us to buy them dinner. We all went to a small, quaint, twenty-four hour place we knew of out in the boonies, called "F'gans", and spent way too much money for not enough food. And then went to the coffee break, and had a really wonderful time. dedicated to Norman october 18 1990?