“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.
“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.
