Gaspar rubbed the door slowly, then more vigorously, using crack programs he’d developed, found, and traded for. Gradually the door’s surface peeled away, leaving only the cycling orbit of atoms standing in his way. He kicked in another part of the crack program and turned his second virtual self into two-dee.
Moving carefully, he flowed through the orbiting atoms, sliding inside the veeyar controlling Griffen’s presentation.
“The Realm of Bright Waters is bigger than anything out there,” Peter Griffen said. “It’s almost half again as large as Sarxos.”
Maj watched the images on the holo, as mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the world as the rest of the audience. This has to be the same place.
“It’s gonna replace Sarxos, dude!” someone shouted from the audience.
The viewpoint suddenly climbed, rising above the thickly bunched trees. For the first time the crowd saw how tall the trees were. Near the canopy, the branches and leaves thinned out enough that diffused green sunlight punched occasional holes through. Maj spotted the red sun above, and she didn’t doubt that the blue one would be long in coming.
“Look!” someone shouted.
There, just for a wisp of a second, was a glimpse of a civilization built in the treetops. Materials stripped from the trees created fantastically shaped huts suspended in the branches of the huge trees. Narrow bridges connected them, some of them built with steps that led up or down. Small humanoid figures dressed in leaves and bark, colors added from fruits or vegetables, clambered through the bridges and branches. They drew back bows, and arrows whizzed too close for comfort, reaching out into the audience using the holoprojector set up in the room.
“Elves!” someone cried.
“The world,” Peter went on, “is filled with dozens of races, all of them equipped with their own history, their own economic and environmental needs. There are physical talents, skills, and magic you can learn. You can be a warrior, a bard, a historian, or a mage. And all of those races and abilities are as evenly weighted as I can make them.”
The viewpoint sailed above the trees, cutting through the green sky. The red and the blue suns shined. A diamond-bright river wound through the heart of the forest.
“The water is the key to everything in the realm,” Peter said. “So many people’s lives depend on the rivers, streams, and oceans that are in this world. Water is a thing of mysticism and power.”
The viewpoint scanned down to a fishing village, then to an old man dressed in animal skins sitting cross-legged on the bank of the river. A dozen small children sat around him, their faces obviously enraptured. The old man stuck his hand into the water and drew it back. A shiny tendril of river water followed the hand out, twisting inquisitively. Then the tendril rolled into a ball that floated between the old man’s hands. Images formed in the watery depths.
“You can explore and interact with small villages,” Peter went on, “or you can journey to vast civilized areas.”
The viewpoint hurtled across the sky again, then focused on a towering city carved from the side of a mountain. Roads twisted and ran through the buildings. Horsemen rode down the thoroughfares amid strangely shaped buggies pulled by large, wingless birds and huge lizards.
“You’ll be called on to help kings,” Peter said, “or you can aid those not so fortunate.”
The viewpoint locked on a ragged beggar seated in the mouth of an alley filled with slithering shadows and hungry red eyes.
“You can live a totally alien experience.” Peter smiled. “At least, as alien as I’ve been able to make it.”
Images of creatures seemingly made of mud slithered through dank riverbanks under the water. Long millipedes the color of rainbows suddenly attacked the mud creatures, coring through them or tearing them to bits. Other mud creatures battled the millipedes, using iridescent pieces of shell that shot out white-hot beams.
“You can protect, or you can pillage,” Peter said.
The sea blurred by, then a wooden submarine came into focus. It floated at the top of the waterline, obviously stalking the merchant ship racing the wind ahead. Suddenly a hatch opened, revealing a being with black chitinous hide. Its eyes sat on stalks, and its face was totally inhuman.
Peter paced, smiling proudly, his own eyes drawn to the holos. “You can build—”
Men and women struggled in an arctic wilderness, using hatchets, hammers, and chisels to punch holes into mountains of ice. Others fed campfires and turned spits of meat, all of them struggling to stay warm and alive. Suddenly the ice beneath them split and a huge whalelike creature surged high into the air.
“—or you can search abandoned cities.”
Torch-lit shadows shifted across the interior of a collapsed building. The dulled sheen of beaten gold drew the eye, holding the promise of treasures yet to come.
Abruptly the holo images faded, leaving a ghost in the air for a moment. Then it was gone, too. And Maj knew there wasn’t a person in the room who wasn’t wanting to see more.
“It’s a whole world,” Peter promised. “A place of huge potential for gamers who love the wonderment of exploration, the thrill of battle, and detailed civilization. It’s a game that I created, and one that I still enjoy adventuring in.”
Conversation broke into dozens of pockets as the audience started talking excitedly.
“When is the game going on sale?” one of the reporters asked.
Peter waved to the booth. “Sign-up packages will be available as soon as we open the doors.”
“What about sales over the Net?”
“Those will be available, too.”
Lines started to form at the two doors Maj could see. She couldn’t blame them. The view she’d gotten of the world the night before had only been the tip of the iceberg.
“You play this game?” the reporter asked.
Peter grinned bashfully. “Every day. I don’t know if I’m admitting to gluttony or pride here, but anything that feels this good has got to be some kind of sin.”
Another wave of laughter went through the crowd.
“When do we get a chance to play?” a girl in the front row asked.
“Actually, Eisenhower Productions was a little reluctant about letting anyone online until it was completely finished,” Peter said.
“Why?” Dunn asked sarcastically. “Do they think it may impact the sales potential by showing that the world interaction isn’t quite as good as you make it sound?”
“Actually,” Peter said, “no. Even at this point players can join up on the game and run through a small adventure.”
“Good,” Dunn said. “Then maybe we can find out exactly how limited this game is before anyone starts paying for it.”
Peter shook his head and looked at the reporter. “It’s too late for that. Pre-orders for Realm of the Bright Water have already set new records.”
The crowd cheered, then started chanting, demanding access to the game.
Peter returned to the middle of the stage. “What we’re going to do now is give you a slight peek into this world.”
The small group of businessmen who’d walked in with Peter started forward. Maj tried to read their expressions, but all she saw was concern, and no reason at all for it to be there. What’s going on?
Peter stretched his right hand high into the air. Silver glitter splashed all around him, so thick it became a mist. Steel hardened in his fist, becoming a broadsword that splintered the light. In the next instant, silver armor covered him from head to toe.
It is him! Maj thought. As politely as she could, she started pushing her way through the crowd.
“Shut him down!”
Coiled up deep in Peter Griffen’s veeyar, Gaspar barely heard Heavener’s cold voice. He gazed around the veeyar, trying to orient himself. Griffen’s private veeyar was huge, the biggest that Gaspar had ever been in. Even this one was larger than most personal systems.