Wall
Street Journal , Jasper decided that life was good.
He immersed himself immediately in a piece on corporate tax strategies. He did
not bother to look out the window to watch Pelapili disappear.
3
« ^ »
Bolivar waved his hands in exasperation. "Know what your problem is, Olivia?
You've got no romance in your soul."
Hands on her hips, Olivia glared up at her cousin, who was perched on a
stepladder. "I'm not looking for romance. I'm after a few cheap thrills. I want chills
down the spine. A nice creepy feeling."
"This is supposed to be Merlin's Cave." Bolivar stabbed a finger at the looming
entrance of the life-sized model of a cavern. "You're dealing with a romantic
archetype. The fog will enhance the atmosphere, trust me."
Olivia pushed her glasses more firmly into place on her nose and scowled at the
mammoth structure that occupied a large portion of the Light Fantastic studio. It
was one of her company's most ambitious projects. The walls of the artificial cave,
inside and out, were painted a distinctive, eerie dark turquoise. The same odd color,
a sort of futuristic medieval shade, was being applied to every prop scheduled for
the Camelot Blue software launch event. It was Camelot Blue's trademark hue. All
of the company's products were boxed and wrapped in it.
"You're supposed to be studying to become a physicist, a hotshot fiber optics
type," she said to Bolivar. "A man who gets turned on by cold light technology and
electroluminescence. What the heck do you know about romantic archetypes?"
"A lot more than you do apparently." Bolivar hopped down from the small
ladder. There was a soft thump as his running shoes hit the bare wooden floor.
Bolivar was twenty-one years old. He had the sharp, aquiline features, dark
auburn hair, and gray-green eyes common to many in the Chantry family tree.
He frowned as he absently shoved the trailing tail of his plaid shirt back into the
waistband of his faded jeans. "I'm telling you that if you want special effects that
will really wow the guests at the Camelot Blue event, you'll go for a romantic touch
with the fake fog."
"The guest list is riddled with teckies, bean counters, and high-level corporate
execs. I doubt if any of them would recognize a romantic touch if it bit them on the
throat."
"Just because you're obsessed with business doesn't mean everyone else is."
Olivia hesitated. The Camelot Blue event was an important contract for Light
Fantastic. Alicia and Brian Duffield, cofounders of the company, belonged to
Seattle's new class of young, smart, affluent techno-wizards. They had hired
Olivia's event firm to produce the software launch event because she had convinced
them that Light Fantastic could provide the high-tech flash they wanted to promote
their products.
The dazzle-and-glitter part was easy, Olivia thought. Thanks to her family
connections, she had access to the state-of-the-art industrial lighting equipment
and fixtures produced by Glow, Inc. Her resources had grown even more bountiful
recently with the completion of the company's new research and development lab.
She raided it at will whenever she was in search of new special effects.
She could handle flash, all right, she thought. But the archetypal romantic stuff
worried her. Bolivar had a point. She was not very good at that kind of thing.
"I still can't figure out why they insisted on naming the company Camelot Blue,"
she grumbled. "It doesn't provide what you'd call a high-tech image."
"It's a teckie thing," Bolivar explained. "Comes from playing all those fantasy
games."
Olivia nodded reluctantly. She was well aware that Camelot Blue's first product
had been a software game, a futuristic version of the Arthurian legend. It had sold
like gelato in August. The company had been growing in quantum leaps ever since
that first trip to market. Now it was set for another big push with a new line of
products.
"Believe me, Olivia, you want to go with the
Street Journal , Jasper decided that life was good.
He immersed himself immediately in a piece on corporate tax strategies. He did
not bother to look out the window to watch Pelapili disappear.
3
« ^ »
Bolivar waved his hands in exasperation. "Know what your problem is, Olivia?
You've got no romance in your soul."
Hands on her hips, Olivia glared up at her cousin, who was perched on a
stepladder. "I'm not looking for romance. I'm after a few cheap thrills. I want chills
down the spine. A nice creepy feeling."
"This is supposed to be Merlin's Cave." Bolivar stabbed a finger at the looming
entrance of the life-sized model of a cavern. "You're dealing with a romantic
archetype. The fog will enhance the atmosphere, trust me."
Olivia pushed her glasses more firmly into place on her nose and scowled at the
mammoth structure that occupied a large portion of the Light Fantastic studio. It
was one of her company's most ambitious projects. The walls of the artificial cave,
inside and out, were painted a distinctive, eerie dark turquoise. The same odd color,
a sort of futuristic medieval shade, was being applied to every prop scheduled for
the Camelot Blue software launch event. It was Camelot Blue's trademark hue. All
of the company's products were boxed and wrapped in it.
"You're supposed to be studying to become a physicist, a hotshot fiber optics
type," she said to Bolivar. "A man who gets turned on by cold light technology and
electroluminescence. What the heck do you know about romantic archetypes?"
"A lot more than you do apparently." Bolivar hopped down from the small
ladder. There was a soft thump as his running shoes hit the bare wooden floor.
Bolivar was twenty-one years old. He had the sharp, aquiline features, dark
auburn hair, and gray-green eyes common to many in the Chantry family tree.
He frowned as he absently shoved the trailing tail of his plaid shirt back into the
waistband of his faded jeans. "I'm telling you that if you want special effects that
will really wow the guests at the Camelot Blue event, you'll go for a romantic touch
with the fake fog."
"The guest list is riddled with teckies, bean counters, and high-level corporate
execs. I doubt if any of them would recognize a romantic touch if it bit them on the
throat."
"Just because you're obsessed with business doesn't mean everyone else is."
Olivia hesitated. The Camelot Blue event was an important contract for Light
Fantastic. Alicia and Brian Duffield, cofounders of the company, belonged to
Seattle's new class of young, smart, affluent techno-wizards. They had hired
Olivia's event firm to produce the software launch event because she had convinced
them that Light Fantastic could provide the high-tech flash they wanted to promote
their products.
The dazzle-and-glitter part was easy, Olivia thought. Thanks to her family
connections, she had access to the state-of-the-art industrial lighting equipment
and fixtures produced by Glow, Inc. Her resources had grown even more bountiful
recently with the completion of the company's new research and development lab.
She raided it at will whenever she was in search of new special effects.
She could handle flash, all right, she thought. But the archetypal romantic stuff
worried her. Bolivar had a point. She was not very good at that kind of thing.
"I still can't figure out why they insisted on naming the company Camelot Blue,"
she grumbled. "It doesn't provide what you'd call a high-tech image."
"It's a teckie thing," Bolivar explained. "Comes from playing all those fantasy
games."
Olivia nodded reluctantly. She was well aware that Camelot Blue's first product
had been a software game, a futuristic version of the Arthurian legend. It had sold
like gelato in August. The company had been growing in quantum leaps ever since
that first trip to market. Now it was set for another big push with a new line of
products.
"Believe me, Olivia, you want to go with the
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