Their guide nodded. “You got it.”
“Can we give you a lift?” asked Alicia. Frank growled and she pretended not to hear him. It didn’t matter.
“No, thanks. I’m on duty.”
That at least explained what he was doing out here all by himself in the middle of the night. “What kind of duty?” Frank inquired.
“Night watchman. You folks have a nice time, now. Try not to lose too much money.”
“We’ll do our best. We’re not big gamblers anyway. I’d rather sit by the pool and people-watch.”
“That’s the way to do it.” The old man nodded approvingly. “Take care now, and remember: left-hand fork.”
“Thank you.” Alicia sent the window up as Frank pulled back out into the middle of the street. “Didn’t you think he was kind of old to be working as a night watchman, dear?”
“Naw. Some of those old guys might not be able to run down purse snatchers, but that doesn’t mean they still can’t shoot straight.”
She nodded, then said thoughtfully, “I wonder what language Pass Regulus means Las Vegas in?”
“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.”
