Part Three-The Return

The blissful scene is smashed by the arrival of the outside world. Cars stream into the driveway while a BBC helicopter whirls overhead preparing to land. You seek refuge deep within the manor. But upon entering the lobby, you are confronted by a completely unhinged butler, who bursts into the lobby brandishing and firing a pistol. Fortunately, you dive to the floor in time and were not hit. When you are finally able to get up, he finds the butler has vanished. You alizethink this was some kind of hallucination, but have no idea what triggered it. Returning to your room, you next encounters Lord Dennis Rollinsby, who uses a magical remote controller to transport the two of them to Stockholm, where you witness the first posthumous award in Nobel history honoring your deceased uncle, whose contributions to DNA-manipulation has earned him the prize for Physiology/Medicine. Rollinsby, who was once presumed dead, accepts the Physics prize in person for his discovery of teleportation, as his dramatic materializing at the ceremony serves as living proof his grand achievement. But upon your return to the manor, you suspect that this too was a hallucination or a dream. Christopher shows up, spies the green controller on Kris's desk and perduades him to try it out. This time, though, there's no hallucination, but it is so mesmerizing it almost seems like one. The green orb lights up and the dividing wall between the two cottages disappears. You and Christopher step inside and find themselves in the midst of a lively Alice in Wonderland tea party, with many of her friends and foes in attendance. Christopher and Alice quickly fall in puppy love as they dash off hand in hand to play with the boy's new puppy Artie. Then, reality intrudes -- when you receive a phonecall and are summoned to the lab. As soon as you enter a light switches on and -- shock! -- you're face to face with Arthur Hanover, who is anything but dead. He sits you down and begins to dole out astonishing revelations: He's neither a noble nor a scientist, and no new life awaits you. Nobody here has cracked the genetic code and that controller you're holding only works in Star Trek episodes. You're nowhere near the UK; instead, you're in a futuristic theme park called "Camelot" high in the mountains of central Japan. But most shocking is this: He says you are the author of this game and stage production, which is still in development, and every member of the manor staff, including him, is a professional actor. He hands over production specs and recording scripts that convince you really are on a stage set. Since you believed yourself to be an ordinary person who flew to England, obviously you must be suffering from some sort of amnesia or dementia. STUART ARTHUR (his real name) assures you this is not so. Be patient, he says, for there's important work to accomplish tonight. It's vital you and he first go over the scenario in detail. Otherwise, if he explains everything, you'll likely recover your true memories, but forget having played. Such is the nature of a dual consciousness he claims you now possess. Stuart then informs you that everybody who knows you in this country knows you only by your pen name, "Masa Ginza." Apparently you've adopted a completely imaginary persona over here. He relishes recounting the reactions of Japanese business people, who upon first meeting you face to face, find that you are actually a Westerner! What can you say or do? The new life you thought you had has just vanished into thin air. The real one he's describing now you've no recollection of. The old one you brought has utterly no confluence with this scene. Though no longer your "uncle," Stuart strikes you as completely sincere. You decide to trust him. He explains that you are the chief scenarist and software architect for a company called imagine21 that produces new-media entertainment for Camelot. The just-concluded scenario was actually a test of a new title for the park's interactive theater offerings. However, imagine21 is a company currently torn by internal strife. Two Japanese marketing managers, whom Stuart derisively terms les saboteurs, are making an all-out effort to wreck this project. And they are being abetted by none other than James Farnsworth, an unscrupulous man who stars in your plays but is also your rival in real life. He desparately wants your job. Using a giant HDTV monitor, he streams video into twelve separate windows. It is the most phenomenal experience -- seeing your every waking moment from the past four days while he explains how it was all secretly and expertly filmed. He takes detailed notes as you review scenes and recall your thoughts and feelings at key junctures. Stuart explains the Shakespeare illusion and holographic sky spectaculars. And speaking of special effects, all those interactions among servants you secretly observed -- of course most don't happen in real time. They're predominantly digital clips rear-projected from the paintings themselves. Hundreds were filmed in advance, covering most situations. For those that aren't, i21 can quickly script and film, composite and digitize scenes on the fly. You are joined by director MALCOLM DUPONT, composer RAYMOND STARR,, and three Japanese sound engineers and visual effects artists, NAMIKO IDABASHI, REIKO TAMURA and MEGUMI KONDO, all of whom are introduced as your closest colleagues, people you work with every day. But to your current mindset, they are all actors who had cameo roles in the just-concluded scenario. One of them hands you a binder entitled "Manor House Production Guide." (Continued)