You would think that a twenty-foot dragon parading down the main street of a major American city would attract at least some attention. You would be wrong. Anyone who’s been in Las Vegas more than forty-eight hours has found stranger things than that on the breakfast buffet. The only interest came from the occasional gawker in a car stuck in traffic, and truth to tell they seemed more taken with Bal-Simba.
“What is all this for?” Moira asked as they walked along. “Wiz compared it to the Winter Fair once, but I never understood.”
“It’s a trade show for the computer industry,” Jerry said. “All these people are connected with computers somehow.”
“And they are here to buy and sell them?”
Jerry shrugged. “Well, they used to be. Then the distribution channels got better established and most of that business moved elsewhere. Then for a while everybody came to see the new products that were being announced. But the show got so big and there were so many announcements that most of the really big ones aren’t made here any more. Then it was the place to meet people. But now it’s so big you have trouble doing that.” He fell silent.
“Then why do people come here?” Moira asked.
“I guess,” Jerry said slowly, “because it’s here.”
The air was cool and the desert sun merely warm rather than blazing. Even so, Moira was showing signs of stress before they reached their destination.
“I am sorry, My Lord, but this body cannot go much further,” Moira told them finally. “It is worn out and I, I am feeling unwell.”
The way she said it made Jerry wonder about what happened when a dragon barfed. He decided not to be in front of her if it happened.
That’s okay. I told you it was further than it looked” He glanced down the street. “Look, the Convention Center is right down there. Why don’t I go ahead and you two follow when she can? I’ll have to wait in line for a while anyway.”
Registration was in a big blue-and-white tent erected in the parking lot at the Convention Center. Jerry breasted his way through the thickening crowds around and inside the tent to get a place in line to register.
“How many?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Two, no make that three sets.”
“Fill out the forms over there and when you get done bring them back here.”
Secure in the knowledge that no one would pay any attention to what was on the forms until he was away from this world, Jerry indulged in an orgy of mendacity. By the time he was done he was president of his own company, Bal-Simba was “Wizard In Chief* and Moira bore the title of “Exhibit A.”
Since he had signed them all up for the seminars as well as the exhibit halls, the bill was in four figures. So much so that he was momentarily taken aback.
What the heck, Jerry thought, it’s only money.
By the time he emerged, the better part of an hour later, Bal-Simba and Moira were waiting for him.
“Here.” He handed Bal-Simba a paper bag of literature. “Most of this is junk but we can go through it later.”
Next he gave Bal-Simba his badge. “Don’t lose this. You have to have it showing all the time.”
The big wizard raised his eyebrows.
“Ifs, uh, a talisman, to get you into the exhibit areas.”
Bal-Simba nodded and clipped it to his vest.
“Where shall I attach mine?” Moira asked.
“Just clip it to your… Ah, right. That is a problem.”
Then it occurred to Jerry there might be a bigger problem. Even with a badge it would be nard to get a dragon into the exhibit areas.
“Wait a minute,” Jerry said, “I’ve got an idea”
Ignoring the thronging crowds, Jerry went over to a banner decorating the side of the building. He quickly cut the ropes and gathered the banner as it fell.
“Here,” he said to Bal-Simba, “help me drape this over her.” With Bal-Simba holding one side of the sign, he threw the other over her back and crawled under her stomach. He barely missed being decapitated when Moira involuntarily raised a massively clawed hind foot.