Frank shrugged, went through the door with Alicia in tow. Burnfingers Begay followed close behind.
The hall was a tube lined with zigzagging neon lights. No, not neon. Closer inspection revealed that the lights hung by themselves in the air, dark as wine and quite tubeless. Frank passed his hand through one, certain no hotel would place dangerous lasers where a careless guest could stumble into them. He felt nothing, not even a tingling. The amazingly intense light was perfectly harmless.
The elevator took them back to the ground floor, deposited them in the casino. They found themselves surrounded by alien sights, smells, and sounds. None of the games being played was recognizable, though a couple came close. At one table, guests were playing something like craps with half a dozen dice suspended in midair. Nearby were intersecting wheels that juggled tiny arrowheads and fragments of script. As they looked on, one of the arrowheads collided with a drifting letter. There was a flash of light followed by a cheer from the spectators down front.
“This might not be as much fun as I’d hoped.” Frank tried to find something they could play. “We’ve got credit, but we don’t know how any of these games operate.”
Alicia put her arm through his. “We don’t have to gamble. Let’s find a show.” Reluctantly, he followed her lead.
A hotel employee directed them to an auditorium. It was tastelessly decorated in velour and crushed velvet, but considering its proximity to the casino it was astonishingly quiet inside. An assortment of nearly nude creatures was cavorting on the distant stage. Some of them were human. Frank found the display of alien anatomy less intriguing than the acrobatics the troupe was performing. Since several of the aliens possessed more than feet and hands to work with, some of the results were spectacular, especially when they interacted with their human counterparts. Frank and Alicia were properly enthralled.
“You were right to come down here.” Alicia’s eyes were shining. “It’s wonderful! What a shame no one will believe any of it.”
“Maybe they’d believe Burnfingers. What about that, Burnfingers?” Frank turned, frowning. There was no sign of their friend. He’d been standing close behind them only a moment earlier.
Straining on tiptoes, Frank barely caught a glimpse of him over the top of the crowd. He was being led away by three huge aliens in dark attire. Frank couldn’t be sure, but he thought Begay was resisting the convoy.
“Hey, somebody’s taking Burnfingers.”
“Taking? He’s probably just going to talk with some people he met.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, it isn’t our problem,” she said determinedly.
He eyed her in surprise, “What do you mean it isn’t our problem, sweets? If it wasn’t for him we’d still be stuck back in Hell. Permanently, maybe.”
She looked up at him. “This isn’t Hell, and we’re free to leave anytime.”
Frank hesitated, tried for another glimpse of Burnfingers. A door opened in the side of the auditorium and the trio of aliens hustled him through. The Indian was definitely putting up a fight. He started toward the doorway.
Alicia tugged on his arm. “Frank, he can take care of himself.”
“Sorry, hon. I have to check it out.”
She was pleading now. “Please, Frank. Don’t risk your life, don’t risk all our lives, for a crazy man.”
Burnfingers was no longer in view. If he didn’t go after him immediately, Frank knew, he probably wouldn’t be able to locate him again. Would that matter so much? Would it matter even to Burnfingers Begay? If he was half as crazy as he claimed to be, by tomorrow he might well have forgotten the Sonderbergs. Trouble was, Frank wouldn’t forget him.
Though not a particularly brave man, and certainly not a foolhardy one, Frank had never shied from a fight. As much as anything, he was curious why anyone in this place would want to talk to Burnfingers, why they would single out a stranger in a crowd. Of course, Begay confessed to having been around some. Had he been here before, too, wherever here was? Or had he been truthful up in the room when he’d claimed he didn’t know where they were?
What it came down to was not where they were, but what kind of people they were.
“I’ve got to see what’s going on, sweets. Got to see if I can help.”
“No, you don’t. It’s probably friends of his, or some kind of minor misunderstanding.”
He gently disengaged himself. “You wait here. Or go back to the room and check on the kids. I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to find out what’s going on. I’m not going to do anything stupid. You know me better than that.”
She nodded slowly. “I know that tone. But I’m not staying here and I’m not going upstairs. I’m coming with you. If there’s no danger then there’s no harm in it.”
He didn’t want to waste any more time arguing. “Come on, then.” He turned and led the way through the crowd, oblivious to the fact that more than half of them weren’t remotely human.
They left the raucous cheering of the auditorium for the comparative quiet of a circular lobby. Frank just managed to glimpse one alien and black hair turning, up another hallway. Several corridors connected with the lobby like the spokes of a wheel.
“There they go!”
“Shouldn’t we notify security or something?” Alicia’s reluctance hadn’t abated.
“Not until we find out what this is all about. Security might make things worse for Burnfingers.”
They hurried across the lobby and into the hallway opposite—only to find themselves confronting a dead end. There were no doors lining the cul-de-sac, only inscriptions on the walls. Frank tentatively brushed a hand across the wall beneath one such label. The script above glowed briefly, but no entrance appeared.
Alicia hung back. “I don’t know about this, Frank. Following’s one thing. Breaking and entering’s another.”
“I’m not going to break anything,” he assured her impatiently.
There couldn’t be more than three doors off the dead end, he suspected. It was too small for more than that. One on each side and another at the far end. He began feeling his way slowly around the hallway wall, paying particular attention to the spaces beneath the inscriptions. It made no difference. The walls remained inviolate.
“They must’ve gone through here somewhere,” he muttered under his breath. “We saw ’em come down here.”
“You tried your best, dear. I’m sure Mr. Begay can take care of himself, wherever he is.” She didn’t entirely believe that, but what else could they do? They had their own troubles and children to worry about. Burnfingers had been a friend and good company, but she wouldn’t be wholly displeased to see him fall by the wayside. It was feeling crowded in the motor home.
Frank didn’t like the idea of giving up, but there didn’t seem anything more he could do, unless he took Alicia’s suggestion and notified hotel security. As he stood there debating how to proceed, there was a rush of air and a door-sized opening materialized just to his left. A second later bodies filled the gap, arms and legs pinwheeling around the flailing form of Burnfingers Begay as he fought with his three abductors. Alicia gasped as the pinwheel sucked up Frank. Despite the beer belly he’d acquired over the years, he still knew how to fight. He began kicking and punching wildly, realizing he had a three-in-four chance of hitting someone beside Burnfingers.
The combative quintet slammed into the far wall and came apart under the impact, which dazed two of Burnfingers’s attackers. Frank extricated himself, bruised but unbowed, while the Indian wrestled with his remaining assailant. The two trying to rise from the floor and rejoin the fight owned ugly faces, short sharp teeth, pointy ears, and a fringe of porcupinish spines that presently lay back flat atop their heads. Frank became aware that Burnfingers was shouting at him.
“Go get Mouse and the children! Warm up the motor home. And do not forget my luggage!” His fist impacted on a blunt snout and his attacker fell limp. One of the two rising from the floor was trying to extract a steel whip from a pocket.
Frank stood paralyzed, puffing hard, realizing he was ill-suited for this sort of activity but unwilling to flee. “You heard him, hon! Get the kids and our stuff into the Winnebago!”
“But you—?”
“Go on, now!”
With a last helpless glance in Burnfingers’s direction she whirled and raced for the elevators.
The thing without the whip weighed at least three hundred pounds. It threw itself on Begay’s back. Burnfingers executed a deft little move and threw the monster into the far wall. As its companion raised the thin steel, Frank hopped forward and kicked it in the groin. That part of its anatomy was apparently analogous enough, because it promptly collapsed to the floor.
Burnfingers put an arm around Frank’s shoulder and launched him down the short hallway. “Come on, my friend!”
“Call—hotel security!” Frank managed to gasp.
“Cannot. We can’t stay here any longer, not even to answer helpful questions. Still got that credit with you?”
“The stuff the manager gave us?” He pulled out a spool of quarter-inch gold tape. “Yeah, right here, but—”
Burnfingers yanked it away. Glancing back, Frank saw two of the massive abductors pounding hard after them. Abruptly he realized how out of shape he was, wheezing and struggling to maintain the pace.
