Free The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) by Allie Potts

a few welcoming remarks as other staff in the back closed the heavy doors. She flicked her wrist ever so slightly, signaling Chad to begin the show.
    Remaining lights abruptly switched off, sending the room into absolute darkness. Juliane listened as a few of the guests shifted nervously. The pillars' lights began to pulsate. The ceilings were replaced with an impression of a starry night. This, in time, was replaced with the dawn of a sunrise as the display panels came on-line.
    The walls became a panoramic view of a seashore. On the horizon was a tall wooden ship. A smaller rowboat was slowly coming closer. The rowboat hit the shore. Men and women dressed in garb hundreds of years out of date crawled over the railing, some with joy radiating from their faces, others with trepidation. Juliane heard at least one person in the crowd gasp. The figures were so real, you thought you could reach out and touch flesh. Her skin prickled in response to where it was hit by virtual ocean spray.
    The scene changed once again. The ocean transformed into a land worn to dirt and scarred from heavy wagon wheels. A hot dry wind blew, kicking up dust and grit, and filled the nostrils with the smell of horsehair and manure. Juliane could see a few people’s brows break out in a sweat as the artificial sun shown down upon them. A group of men rode by, startling a number of spectators. Once again, Juliane heard gasps, and she let out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
    The sun was replaced by artificial lights. The desert was replaced by the sterile cleanliness of a room very different from the one they were in. Gone was the smell of livestock, replaced with bleach and bad cologne. The room was filled with rows of large CRT monitors, large buttons, and dials. The image on the monitors showed a rocket firing into space. The operators of the monitors were jumping up and down in celebration, showing glimpses of garish plaid polyester pants on some.
    Mission control faded away. They were in a city surrounded by traffic-congested streets. A tower of steel and glass shown like fire as it reflected back the orange hue of sky at sunset. Nearby, a man-made waterfall cascaded down the sides of a square. Even from this distance, several names could be seen etched into its sides. A crowd of people nearby cheered as a spire was raised on the tower. The tower was one of the most recognizable structures of all New York. Its existence was both a reminder of the past and a challenge issued to the future. A challenge to always rise up and move forward. A challenge to never be beaten by fear of the unknown. It was a challenge that Juliane accepted long ago. As a man bolted an etched brass plate into position, Juliane heard someone shout, “Where did they get this footage? That’s my grandpa!”
    The simulation had been more than just canned footage and approximations. Her system had homed in on a few individuals within the crowd and cross-referenced their identification badges with historical reference information to create figures based on the composition of identifiable genealogy in the room. The gasps from the crowd had been those individuals either recognizing the event itself from their personal histories or a striking family resemblance.
    The display panels turned off, and they were all once again in the Las Vegas Convention Center auditorium. Juliane looked into the shadows where Louis stood. He was frozen in place. His jaw hung open. She had provided a high-level summary of her plans for the introduction along with her script, but it was one thing to read about what would be on display and quite another to experience it. Meeting her eyes, Louis closed his lips and nodded in appreciation.
    Louis stepped onto the dais to thunderous applause. The audience was rapt as Louis painted a picture of a bright future utilizing her technology, one where children could attend school from the safety of their own homes and live history lessons; one where