“Beats me, sweets. Hungarian or something.” He glanced at the rearview. “Mouse?”
“The name is unfamiliar to me, Mr. Sonderberg.”
“What about Italian, Pops?” Wendy suggested.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“How would you know?” His daughter’s voice had regained its normal, healthy smart-ass tone.
“Because your mother and I have eaten at Mama Genovese’s over in Long Beach ever since we were dating, and this guy didn’t sound anything like Mama Genovese.”
The argument over accents continued as Frank followed the curving road until they came to the fork, just as the old man had predicted. The city lights were brighter than ever. Frank turned left. A few minutes later they found themselves out of the industrial area and cruising down a main street.
Alicia stared in puzzlement at the casinos and hotel towers. “I don’t recognize any of this.”
Frank didn’t reply immediately. They were surrounded by slowly moving traffic and he was trying to concentrate on his driving. “I don’t, either, but remember we usually come straight from the airport to the hotel. We’ve never been in this end of town.”
“Maybe that’s why everything looks so different. But you’d think we’d have seen at least one familiar place by now. The Golden Nugget or Silver Dollar or someplace.”
“Any minute, now. You’ll see. Maybe there’s been a lot of redevelopment in the past year.”
Alicia looked dubious.
“Oh, wow, look at that, look at that!” Wendy was gesturing excitedly to the sidewalk on their right. “There must be a science-fiction convention in town!”
Frank managed a brief glimpse of the crowded sidewalk beneath the neon. Scattered among the mass of people were a few visions lifted from a fever dream. Two figures a good head taller than the rest of the crowd boasted eyes on the tips of wobbling stalks and orange-hued skin beneath loose green vests. Behind them strolled a dozen tall bluish shapes. White stripes ran down their backs and they wore robes of saffron satin. No heads were visible.
Hari Krishna asparagus, Frank thought, laughing to himself.
Other figures wore thick fur despite the warmth of the night. Dog-faced dwarfs that must have been children in costume wore incongruously bright kilts. He tried to penetrate the exquisitely designed masks, but it was difficult, what with having to concentrate on driving. Whoever had fashioned the masks and costumes had done a superb job. They looked loose and natural.
Only then did he let his gaze shift to the humans in the crowd. That was at once more reassuring and more disturbing. They were undeniably people, but not one wore anything familiar. If this were New Orleans at Mardi Gras it might have made sense, but this was Vegas, where visitors tended to the outré in their habits, not their attire. The street people’s clothing was as outrageous as the alien costumes.
For that matter, the hotels and casinos didn’t look quite normal. Alicia was right about that. Oh, they were every bit as flashy and glitter-plated. But at the same time they were somehow different. Some of the neon signs appeared to float in midair, attached to nothing, like holograms, only brighter. Instead of mere concrete the sidewalks were paved in spots with bright tiles that flashed different colors and filled the air with music when they were trod upon.
As they cruised slowly down the road, hemmed in by smaller vehicles on all sides, he searched in vain for the Tropicana, the Flamingo, the Dunes. There was no sign of the older hotels, Vegas landmarks since the fifties. As for the newer ones, they were remarkable and elaborate. Only the names were missing. Most had signs in languages other than English. Those that did identified themselves as the Gloryhole and Eruption and Coraka. At that moment he would have given a hundred bucks to see a sign reading Hilton.
As if in response to his unvoiced wish they came up on still another grandiose structure. The huge glowing sign seemed to drift unstably twenty feet above the sidewalk. It read HULTON, but for Frank that was close enough. As he pulled out of the street into the parking lot he saw that the bottom floor was perfectly transparent. Beyond he could make out strange fish and other sea creatures, along with more swimmers in costume. They wore no scuba tanks.
The knot that was growing in the pit of his stomach doubled in size.
Forty stories of hotel were mounted on water enclosed by glass. As they drove farther into the lot they could see people traveling between floors in glass elevators. Fish scattered to avoid the moving lifts.
“It’s like Vegas.” Alicia’s tone was soft, hushed. “But it’s not. It’s someplace else. Where’s Circus Circus?” She leaned forward. “It should be near here, near the end of the strip.”
“It better be.” He pulled back out into the street, continued westward.
Circus Circus wasn’t where it ought to be. In its place was an equally outlandish casino-hotel complex. Instead of the long pool intended to imitate an ancient Roman bath, they found a stream filled with pure blue light. Yellow steam rose from the liquid like dry ice from a tropical drink. The stream was flanked on both sides by tall statues of beetles and reptilian things in formal suits.
A long line of vehicles was waiting to unload passengers at the main entrance, beyond the spring, which fed the stream of blue light. Some cars had wheels, others did not. A long low bus sported a pair of humming wings. No wonder the old watchman they’d encountered had been curious about the motor home.
“Gee, Dad. Do you see that?” Steven had his face pressed up against one window as he stared. He was gazing not at the hotel or the strange vehicles but at the night sky.
Trying to control his trembling, Frank leaned forward and twisted his head to peer up and out. What he saw were four moons, each a different size, all hanging in an impossible sky. He wondered what the sun would look like when day finally broke over this place. Would it be yellow or some other alien color? And would it have cousins, like the moon? His hands clung tightly to the wheel lest it metamorphose beneath his fingers.
“Let me guess,” he said quietly. “Another thread twisted?”
Mouse nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “Another thread.”
“Right.” He sat up straight, so sharply Alicia was startled. He began turning the wheel. “I’ve had enough! I don’t give a damn where the real Las Vegas is or what this place is, but we’re going home. Now, tonight.”
“Aw, Dad!” Steven whined. “This place looks neat!”
“We’re going home, like your father says.” Somehow Alicia held on to her composure, not to mention her sanity.
While Steven folded his arms and pouted, his father accelerated away from the taunting lights of the city. “Airport. Gotta be an airport. Every city has an airport. We’ll fly home, right now.”
Half a mile past the last casino they found the sign. It proclaimed, in perfect English: AIRPORT. An arrow pointed down a road leading out into the desert.
Frank sent them skidding wildly around the corner. The lights of the city continued to shrink behind them. That’s when he saw the thing that made him slow down, then pull over to the side of the road and park. He ignored the profusion of remarkable vehicles that alternately whizzed, whistled, squeaked, and roared past the idling motor home.
Rising in the distance was a tower of cool purple flame atop which sat an elaborate flattened dirigible. Bright lights glistened along its side like the running illumination of some deep-sea fish. It was at least as big as the Empire State Building. As they stared, it tilted to its right. When it was climbing at a forty-five-degree angle, a loud boom echoed across the desert and it vanished into the night.
A moment later two smaller ships took its place in the sky. They were only as big as 747s. Ovoid-shaped, their lights were concentrated along the top. They were descending instead of rising, on puffs of bright red light.
“I cannot be certain,” said Burnfingers Begay quietly, “but I do not think you will be able to get a plane to Los Angeles from here.”
Frank let out a long slow breath, slumped over the wheel. Alicia was instantly concerned.
“Hon, are you all right?”
He looked over at her without straightening. “No, I’m not all right. I’m sick and tired. Aren’t you?”
She hesitated. “I guess, I guess I am. I guess none of us is all right.”
Wendy’s voice was a mixture of awe and fear. “Daddy, where are we?” Her father finally sat up, staring blankly through the windshield at the distant spaceport.
“Pass Regulus. Wherever the hell that is.”
“I know a star called Regulus,” said Steven.
“Star. That’s a big help.” Steven looked hurt and Frank was instantly contrite. The kid had little enough self-confidence as it was. “Sorry, kiddo. I’m just a little upset right now, understand?”
Steven spoke reluctantly. “Yeah, sure. I understand. Gee, Dad, don’t you think since we’re here we oughta look around a little?”
“Doesn’t look like we have any choice. But I’m still going to concentrate on getting us home.”
A metallic squeak indicated the side door was being opened. He glanced around sharply, but it was only Burnfingers Begay leaning out for a look. Satisfied, he shut the door behind him.
