“Constellations are all mixed up. I don’t recognize a one my grandfather taught me. Maybe one of them up there is our sun. Or maybe this is our world and it is all changed around.”
Frank was learning that when reality was dissolving around you like a pat of butter in a baked potato it was best not to try to define anything too precisely.
“So what do we do? Grab the first ship to Pluto or someplace close? What the hell am I supposed to do?” He was too tired to raise his voice.
“We must keep close to the road,” declared Mouse. “It is the nearest thing that remains to a constant. Like all roads, this one is a thread of sorts.”
Alicia turned to her. “What do you think we should do? Should we try and drive back to Los Angeles?”
“No. It is more important than ever for me to move quickly to the Vanishing Point. Reality is degenerating ever more rapidly. It is regrettable,” she concluded apologetically, “that the Anarchis has chosen to concentrate its efforts on me, but that only proves how close I am to reaching my goal of soothing the Spinner. My fellow singers must be in even more difficulty than I am.”
“Aren’t we just lucky we happened to pick you up,” said Frank sarcastically.
“It is a grand thing you are doing in helping me.”
“Let me guess. You said this Vanishing Point was near Vegas. Am I right in assuming it isn’t actually in Vegas, after all? Or this Pass Regulus place, either?”
“No. I said it lay in this direction. This is true. It lies onward. That is the way we must go. If we retreat now we run the risk of encountering the same twisted thread that nearly destroyed us before.”
He nodded resignedly. “I thought it might be like that. So we can’t go back, either. Unless we want to pay another visit to Hell.”
“We must go on.”
“To where?” He shifted in his seat. “To this Vanishing Point? Next big town is Salt Lake City. I suppose you’re going to tell me it lies beyond that, too. Then what? Cheyenne?”
“No.” She concentrated, closing her eyes. “Not that far. Surely not that far.”
“I suppose I should be relieved, right?”
“So what you’re saying,” said Alicia, “is that if we can get you as far as this Vanishing Point, you’ll be able to make everything right again.”
“If I can soothe the Spinner, yes. If it is not already too late.”
Alicia turned to her husband. “We have to go on, Frank. I thought maybe we could walk away from this, but we can’t. Not if everything’s going to keep changing. I thought it would be all right when we got to Las Vegas. Now we aren’t even going to be able to do that. We don’t have any choice.”
“The hell we don’t! I’m not heading out into nowhere again tonight. I can’t drive anymore, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“I could drive, Dad,” said Wendy.
He smiled at her. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I think I’d rather be behind the wheel myself in case we run into any new surprises. This boat’s a little harder to handle than your XR-7.”
“Then what are we going to do, dear?” Alicia asked him.
He sighed. “A city’s a city.”
“Perhaps it would be best for us to rest awhile,” said Mouse.
“Frank’s right.” Burnfingers nodded back toward town. “Maybe Pass Regulus is not Las Vegas, but it looks to be a close facsimile. They should welcome us at one of the hotels.”
“What about money?” Frank asked him. “They may not take credit cards here.”
“What they take might surprise you. If nothing else we always have my gold.”
“But you’ve been saving that for something special,” said Alicia. “To make your jewelry, or whatever it is you intend to make.”
“I can always get more gold. When we are safely back in our reality you can pay me back.”
“You’d do that for us?” said Frank.
“It will be a cold day in Hell when Burnfingers Begay shies from helping his friends. I am looking forward to seeing what kind of entertainment this city offers.”
Mouse eyed him. “There’s no guarantee gold is worth anything on this reality line. It might be quite common.”
“Not my gold. Mine is uncommon gold. Though I cannot dispute what you say.”
“It’s worth a try, anyway.” Frank checked the road behind them. Both lanes were empty. He swung the big motor home around, kicking sand from the opposite shoulder, and headed back toward town. Momentarily he found himself wondering at the difference between common and uncommon gold. Then it was forgotten as he concentrated afresh on the traffic that began to gather around them.
9
NOT FAR BEYOND THE Hulton he pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be the biggest hotel around. Four metal and glass wings protruded from the crown of the immense cylindrical tower. Each wing contained a huge glass-bottomed pool in which guests were invited to swim. Their distance from the ground eliminated any temptation anyone in the motor home might have felt to do so.
The reservations manager was as human as they were, especially when it came to his attitude toward money. As he’d feared, Frank found that his credit cards and cash were utterly useless.
Or as the manager put it, “If you’re trying to pull some kind of gag, my friend, this is the wrong place to do it.” He wore a one-piece powder-blue jumpsuit with an exotic white and black flower sprouting from the buttonhole. His shaven skull was elaborately painted. The composition continued down both sides of his neck to vanish beneath the jumpsuit’s shoulder straps.
“What about this?” Burnfingers fumbled inside his leather pouch and extracted a Spanish piece of eight. Frank didn’t get a good look at it, but it gleamed like new.
The manager held it up to the light. “Pretty, but malleable. Not worth much, I’m afraid.”
A discouraged Frank turned away from the desk. “So we’re stuck. We’ll have to sleep in the motor home after all.”
“Wait.” The manager’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that noise?”
Since the lobby fronting the desk was active with people and other creatures coming and going, not to mention the din rising from the nearby casino, his query could have stimulated several different answers. Except that he was looking straight at Wendy, who was standing behind her parents rocking to the sounds from her Walkman. Evidently the manager’s hearing was more than acute.
Sometimes, Frank thought, it helps to be experienced in commerce.
“Just some of my daughter’s music.”
The manager listened a moment longer, licking his lips. “Could I hear closer?” he finally asked hesitantly.
“Sure.” Frank turned to yell at his daughter. “Wendy!”
She made a face, slipped off the earphones. “What’s up, Pops?”
“Let our friend here have a listen.”
She looked dubious but passed over the Walkman and phones. The manager slipped them on carefully. A look of pure bliss transformed his face. Frank was becoming impatient when the man finally removed the phones. He looked around to make sure none of his fellow employees was near, leaned over the counter. He wore avarice like a cheap cologne.
