The smell reached Duke before the lobby doors closed behind him. Hot soldering, and industrial glue.
Atari Lab in El Gato, California, was never quiet.
Engineers hurried down the corridor with printouts tucked under their arms. Most wore short sleeves and no ties. A few even wore sandals.
Duke sideeyed them as they walked past.
Duke stopped at the edge of the main floor and watched rows of CRT monitors glowing on every desk, each one a little boxy window into a game that did not exist yet.
Atari had developed a lot since 1977 as they had claimed their role as the 'Leader' of the industry.
Not to mention, the Videogame industry as a whole had grown reaching a market size of 38 Billion Dollars in revenue worldwide.
For comparison, in 1981, the North American videogame industry made about $5 billion in revenue, while U.S. movie theater box office revenues were under $3 billion.
Duke knew this would never change. 'Maybe one year dring the Videogame Market crash... but thats kind of it.'
Not even on the upcoming 'Hollywood Golden Age' of the 90s, would movies Box Office have a bigger market size than Videogames.
Duke saw a cable on the floor that someone had taped a handwritten sign to a testing station that read.
'DO NOT UNPLUG.'
Engineers hopped between stations, joysticks in hand, shouting scores and bug reports at each other across the room.
Down one hall, a break room had been turned into a tiny arcade with four cabinets lined on the wall, free to play.
Engineers took turns between meetings, and the high scores on the screens showed initials Duke recognized from the payroll list.
He noticed something else as he walked.
Most of the engineers laughed and worked despite some looking tired, 'They probably really love Videogames.'
Working in Atari was difficult, but he did appreciate the fact most of the employees seem to like the games.
Its better to trust the people who spend their every waking day thinking about Videogames than anyone else.
Nolan Bushnell waved at him from the far end of the lab, standing beside a workbench with both arms spread like a magician.
"Duke! Here!" Nolan called.
Duke crossed the floor, dodging a cart of circuit boards.
A black and silver console sat on the bench under a small lamp.
It looked sleeker than the Atari 2600, with a flat top and a controller port panel on the front.
"The Atari 5200," Nolan said, "Four controller ports. A real processor inside, better resolution, and richer sound."
The 2600 managed to run games with far less memory, around 128 bytes of RAM.
The new 5200 offered 16 Kylobytes of RAM, enough for games that looked closer to the arcade cabinets kids were lined up for at pizza parlors and bowling alleys.
"Analog joysticks," Nolan went on, lifting one off the bench. "It reads how far you push. And it plays every game in the 2600 library. Every cartridge a family already owns works on this."
Duke took the joystick. It was bulkier than the 2600's stubby stick, with a keypad of buttons across its face and a plastic boot at the base. He tilted it slowly and felt the resistance.
He turned the console over in his hands. The hardware was impressive.
In his past life this machine had been a footnote, remembered mostly for what it lacked. Here it had a chance to be more at least.
A true Console to compete with the NES or any console trying to compete with them.
"This is the future," Duke said. "The hardware is impressive, Nolan. But this industry isn't about microchips. It's about games."
Nolan grinned and nodded like a man who had heard the line before and liked it every time.
"Then let me show you the launch slate," Nolan said.
He led Duke to a place near the back wall where glossy mock-ups of box art were pinned in a neat row, each one painted by hand, with bold titles and dramatic scenes.
Alien. Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. Donkey Kong. Flash Gordon. Lord of the Rings.
Nolan tapped each one as he went.
Movie licenses were the safest bet in the business.
A child who saw a poster at the theater would recognize the same name on a store shelf weeks later.
Duke studied the lineup, Donkey Kong caught his eye.
He had designed it himself after all and it was the only 'Original' game around here.
Of course, Original in this case meant, it was the only game from an Arcade, not a film property.
Nintendo was still a modest Japanese company known for playing cards and toys, and although they were trying to get into the Videogame industry, Duke had make usre to use every piece of his memories to attack them.
As of right now, Nintendo was struggling heavily in the North American market after the commercial failure of its arcade game Radar Scope.
Historically they would reporpuse the hardware to make Donkey Kong, sadly Duke had no intention of letting them get that kind of easy win.
"Good work, Nolan," Duke said. "But we need something more... original stuff you know."
Nolan blinked. "Original how? The licenses are what people know."
"Exactly," Duke said. "They know them. Give them something they've never seen."
He leaned against the nearest bench.
A paper napkin lay beside a half-eaten sandwich, probably left behind by an engineer who had forgotten lunch.
Duke pulled a blue pen from his jacket and smoothed the napkin flat.
He drew a small man in overalls with a cap. Beneath him he drew long platforms stacked like shelves, with green pipes at the corners.
Above the figure he wrote two words.
Mario Bros.
"Two players," Duke said, adding a second stick figure in green.
"They work together. Enemies come out of the pipes, and you jump up and bump the platform from below to flip them over and then you kick them away."
Nolan leaned in. His eyebrows rose, then knotted together. "Is he supposed to be a plumber?"
"An italian plumber. Two players working together," Duke said.
Most arcade hits of the day involved shooting something, that could be anything ranging from Spaceships, tanks, aliens.
Meanwhil, a game about cooperation, starring a plumber, sounded slightly odd on paper.
Duke reached for a fresh napkin. He drew a tall rectangle, then filled the bottom with small blocks in odd shapes.
"Falling blocks," he said. "The player will arange them, complete a line and it disappears. The longer you last, the faster they fall."
Basically, a game easy to play, hard to master.
He drew arrows to show the pieces turning.
Across the top he wrote a single word.
Tetris.
Nolan stared at the napkins. He rubbed his temples with two fingers. A plumber and a pile of falling bricks.
This was supposed to sell a console?
Duke waited. He had seen this look before, but he was the boss. If he wanted to make anything... there's nothing much anyone could reliably do.
Nolan let out a long breath, then laughed at himself. "You're the boss."
He folded both napkins with care and slid them into his shirt pocket.
A cartridge held only a few kilobytes of code, about as much as a short letter.
Every game had to fit inside that space, so programmers counted bytes like an accountant making taxes.
Duke started toward the exit, and Nolan fell into step beside him.
They passed a long wall of framed photographs. E
ngineers in beards and plaid shirts grinned beside the cabinets they had built.
"I want your best engineers on these two," Duke said. "Mario Bros and the falling blocks. Your best, Nolan."
"Quality over speed," he added. "No rush. I'll be coming back in a few weeks to speak with the teams."
"When do you want them?" Nolan asked.
"Late 1982," Duke said.
"I'll make it happen," Nolan said. He was already looking over his shoulder, counting names in his head.
Duke pushed open the glass doors and stepped outside. The warm California sun settled on his shoulders.
A row of cars sat in the lot, mostly boxy sedans and a few station wagons.
His own waited near the curb, a dark Rolls Royce with a driver who was reading a newspaper.
Duke smirked as he walked toward it.
Through the glass doors he could see Nolan already waving over two young engineers and showing the folded napkin.
Duke had a plan, and it was simple.
Prevent the crash. Dominate the market and bring Nintendo's best talent and best games into the Atari family.
He slid into the back seat. "Paramount lot," he told the driver.
"Indiana Jones has a screening tonight."
___
Recommendation for anyone trying to watch a YT video
'Why Movie Licenses DON'T Mean Success'