Page 12: A Long Way From Donald Duck

Creative director Patrice Desilets says he can't believe the game is done.

It's a few days after the game has gone into duplication, and no one on the team can believe they are done. "It's been a hard couple of days," Desilets admits. "That game was my entire life for 26 months--every day, every single minute. And now suddenly it's gone. I honestly feel a bit of a hole because I don't know what to do with my life."

At least in the short term, most of the Prince of Persia team will go on vacation. Desilets isn't sure where he's going--like the unpredictable improv comedian he is, his plans have changed half a dozen times in the past few months. First there was a trip to Thailand. Then there was the idea of going to Vietnam for two months. Now, he's thinking two weeks in Cuba and then maybe going to Australia for a month. ("The women there are absolutely amazing," he says, showing signs of a young man who's finally ready to think about something other than his game.)

Animator Alex Drouin is already off to India for a two-month vacation.

But even though Desilets and most of the POP Team will go on vacation in the short term, Desilets is already eager to get working on another game. "I'd love to do a game where you play it in real time for 24 hours, or maybe a horror game where the entire game is you battling against just one enemy," he says. Already, ideas are flowing about the future. Somehow, though, it's probably a safe bet that the days of Donald Duck games are over.

When you hear Desilets talk about the future, you can't help but ask him if finishing Prince of Persia has, at least in a way, fulfilled the dream every teenage boy has to one day build his own blockbuster video game. Ask Desilets this question, and there's a long drawn-out pause. He runs his fingers through his hair, and his eyes drift to the ceiling.

"No, no," he says softly. "You didn't dream about that when I was growing up in Quebec. When I was a teenager, video games were done elsewhere--Japan and America. I loved my country and I didn't want to move anywhere else, so I basically thought I would never be able to make a video game." But sometimes, it seems, the passage of time changes both circumstance and opportunity. For Desilets and the other young French-Canadians who built Sands of Time, what seemed like an impossibility 10 years ago has now become a reality.

As the sun finally sets on Mechner's house in Los Angeles, the wind picks up and he begins to cross his arms to keep his body warm from the breeze. When told what his fellow teammates in Montreal had to say about the end of the project, Mechner begins to nod his head in agreement. "This project reminded me what it can be like to work with a great team," he says. And while Mechner says it's unlikely he will get deeply involved in another Prince of Persia game anytime soon, Sands of Time has rekindled his interest in making video games after a string of crushing disappointments. "This was so much fun I'm already working on a brand-new video game project," he hints.

Yannis Mallat carries a rose in his mouth and a beer in his hand to celebrate completion of the game.

In the end, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time is a game that will surely be lauded for its rich and addictive gameplay. But on a deeper level, what stands behind the polygons, beyond the levels, and past the dazzling visual effects is a group of 50 young men and women forever changed by the experience of building the game. For the team in Montreal, Prince of Persia was a project that showed each of them their true potential. No matter what the team does next, they will never have to worry again about being ignored at the next E3. And when it comes to Jordan Mechner, creating Sands of Time changed him too: It showed him that no matter what may have happened in the past, the passage of time brings with it new opportunities and unlocks new possibilities. Prince of Persia is back, and so is Jordan Mechner--and this time, hopefully for good.