Flash Read Online Free PDF Page B

whole thing will
    really pop when we crank up the fog machine."
    Olivia set her cup down on Zara's drafting table. "Let's try it"
    "You got it." Bolivar went to stand at the control panel.
    Olivia walked to the six-and-a-half-foot-high entrance of the blue cave and
    peered into the depths of the plastic foam construct. The fake cavern walls
    shimmered with a weird blue light.
    "Give me the full range of special effects, Bolivar. Lights, sound, and the stupid
    fog. I want to see the whole show."
    Bolivar flipped switches on the panel. "Here we go. I give you Merlin's Cave."
    Olivia stepped into the artificial cavern. She was quickly enveloped in the
    futuristic blue light. The strange glow turned hazy as the fake fog swirled from
    concealed jets.
    "Creepy enough for you?" Bolivar called.
    "Pretty eerie, all right," Olivia admitted. She moved deeper into the cave.
    The imitation stone walls had been painted by one of the freelance artists who
    contracted with Light Fantastic. The woman specialized in faux and trompe l'oeil
    finishes.
    Olivia was pleased with the final result. The stone-textured surface of the interior
    of the cave was satisfyingly rocky in appearance.
    A short distance past the entrance, the cavern curved abruptly, cutting off the
    view of the studio outside. Olivia studied her surroundings with a critical eye.
    It was not Hollywood or Disneyland, but it was good, she decided. The client
    would be pleased.
    The mist thickened, and the light grew more ominous. She looked at her hands
    and noticed that the strange glow had turned her skin an otherworldly color.
    She walked around another corner and stepped into the center of the cave. On
    the night of the event a half-dozen computer stations would be installed to allow
    guests to experiment with the latest versions of Camelot Blue wizardry.
    "Give me the storm sequence," Olivia called.
    "Here goes." Bolivar's voice was muffled by the cave walls.
    Haunting electronic music swelled. Wind blew. Thunder drummed in the
    distance. Arrows of blue light crackled overhead and underfoot. The hazy mist
    thickened. It reflected the glow, intensifying the aura of sorcery.
    Olivia was engulfed in the special effects. The dancing lights pulsed with the
    electronic music in a dazzling, intricate pattern that had a mesmerizing effect.
    "Well, shoot," she muttered. "I'm going to have to give Bolivar and Zara another
    raise."
    Bolivar had gone a bit overboard on the fog, she decided. It was getting
    noticeably thicker by the second. She waved a hand to clear away some of the misty
    stuff.
    "Turn off the fog, Bolivar. I can't see a thing."
    There was no response. She realized he could not hear her above the music and
    the sounds of the gathering storm.
    "Bolivar, shut off the fog."
    The vapor grew denser. The lenses of her glasses misted. She realized that she
    could no longer make out the outlines of the fake rock walls.
    She removed her glasses and wiped the lenses on her sleeve. When she put them
    back on they immediately clouded over a second time. It was like being trapped
    inside a blue cotton candy machine, she thought. Everything around her was
    concealed in a fuzzy, dark turquoise mist.
    The music soared, a high-tech electronic symphony with strong Celtic themes.
    Irritated, she groped her way toward the exit. At one point she flung out a hand
    and made contact with a wall. Her knuckles scraped against the rough surface.
    "Ouch." She winced and shook her bruised fingers. Gingerly she made her way by
    touch along the twisting corridor that led to the mouth of the cave.
    She rounded a corner.
    And froze when she saw the dark figure looming in the glowing mist.
    "Bolivar?"
    But she knew it was not her cousin. Even with vapor-shrouded glasses she could
    see that whoever he was, this man was too tall, too broad across the shoulders, too
    overwhelming in every way to be Bolivar.
    Please don't let him be a potential client . The runaway fog would not make a
    good impression, she