Muncrief laughed at his pun. The others did not.
"May I point out," Toshimura said, "that the development effort is more than four months behind schedule? And—" he glanced down briefly, "—six and a quarter million dollars over budget."
Muncrief brushed at the lock of hair that fell boyishly across his forehead. "Look, friends, we're talking about cutting-edge research here. Breakthroughs like you've never seen before! You can't expect these things to follow a schedule, for god's sake!"
Swenson said, "You can't expect an unending flow of money, Muncrief."
"We'll open Cyber World on time," Muncrief said.
"In seven months?" Glass looked utterly unconvinced. "That's what the schedule calls for: April first."
Squirming slightly in his chair Muncrief replied, "In seven months. That's right. The construction's already underway and—"
"That's only brick and mortar," said Swenson.
"And about half the games are in the can, ready to go," Muncrief continued. "This isn't like Disneyland, you know. We don't need elaborate structures and all those clanking mechanical nightmares. All we need are a few simple buildings and the electronics."
"Half the games, you said?" Toshimura prompted.
Ticking his fingers, Muncrief said, "We've got the Moonwalk—which can be converted to a Marswalk fast as you can blink an eye. And the undersea adventure. And the trip through the human body. And the creation of the universe!"
"But not the baseball."
"Not yet. Soon. Very soon." Muncrief's jaunty grin returned. "And remember, these games aren't passive. You don't just walk through the human body. You can change it! You can go right into the brain and make the body speak and move! And you haven't seen the Space Race game yet! Virtual reality is an experience; you interact with the environment you're in."
"But the conflict games are giving you trouble," Swenson half-guessed, half-accused.
Muncrief's grin froze on his face. "The conflict games call for two or more people to share the simulation at the same time. Naturally that's a bit more complex than a simulation where one person runs everything by himself. Or herself."
"The conflict games will be the big attraction," said Glass. "That's the one thing cyber world will have that nobody else can do. Take part in the gunfight at the OK Corral. I was looking forward to that one myself."
"To pitch against Babe Ruth while one's friend sees himself batting against Nolan Ryan." Toshimura's face was expressionless, but his voice had a slightly dreamy ring to it.
Muncrief held up his hands. "The conflict games will be there, I promise you. They just need a little more time." His investors waited, and sure enough Muncrief added, "And a little more money."
"How much more money?" Toshimura asked.
Pushing his hair back again, Muncrief replied, "Enough to keep the team working at the problem until it's solved. That runs to roughly four-five hundred thousand a month. It's not so much."
"For how many months?" Swenson asked.
"Until it's perfected."
"You want us to make an open-ended commitment?" Glass looked startled at the idea.
Muncrief said, "I wish I could give you a schedule, but we're dealing with very creative people working at the cutting edge of the technology. Lord, they don't know how long it will take. How on earth can I know?"
"But the conflict games must be ready when Cyber world opens!" Toshimura insisted. "Otherwise there is no point to opening the park."
"Oh, they'll be ready by then," Muncrief promised.
"Lord, that's seven months away."
"Two point eight to three point five million dollars," muttered Swenson. "Call it three mil and let it go at that."
Muncrief spread his hands and tried to smile at them.
"After we have already invested so many millions," Toshimura said.
"It's necessary!" Muncrief said, almost apologetically. "I told you at the outset that we'd probably need more funding. Our original budget was based on the proposition that we wouldn't hit any serious