“Basically, we’re going to have one more shot to try to find him tonight,” Jerry told the pair. That’s at this reception downtown.” He didn’t say what they’d do if they didn’t find Taj there and the others didn’t ask.
“How shall we get there?’
Jerry looked at the dragon and sighed. “I’m sorry but there’s only one way. We’ll have to walk again.”
It was a hike of several miles and they took it slowly, resting every few blocks for Moira’s sake. The sun sank, the shadows deepened and Las Vegas lit up for the night
“This is truly a wonderland,” Bal-Simba said at one of their rest stops, awed by the explosion of colored lights and rivers of traffic around them. “Your world is indeed a fantastic place.”
“Well, this is fantastic even by the standards of our world,” Jerry said “Lake I told you, Las Vegas is unique.”
“Is it all like this? The town, I mean.”
“Oh no. Most parts of Las Vegas are really quite normal. It’s supposed to be a pretty nice place to live, actually.”
“Will we go there? The normal parts, I mean.”
Jerry looked at the twenty-foot-dragon and the giant black wizard dressed like a 1970s pimp. “Nooo, I don’t think so.”
It took them several hours to reach the Towne Centre “ hotel in the older “Glitter Gulch” downtown casino district. By now it was full dark and so late Jerry was afraid they might miss the reception completely. An even bigger worry was Moira, who was obviously getting more and more run down. Even with more frequent rests she was nearly punchy by the time they reached the alley behind the hotel.
“Why don’t you wait out here?” Jerry suggested. Moira just nodded.
“Perhaps I had best stay too while you go inside,” Bal-Simba said.
Jerry considered. Anyone who found Moira by herself probably wouldn’t ask questions. Bal-Simba, on the other hand, would be expected to answer them. While Jerry had he was much less sure of his ability to concoct a story that wouldn’t get him hauled off to jail by Las Vegas’ finest. Especially in the get-up he was wearing.
“I think you’d better come with me,” he said. “Moira, you stay here. No, over here next to the dumpsters. Stay out of that yellow painted area, otherwise they’re likely to tow you away. If anyone comes by, just freeze like a statue. Pretend you’re not alive. We’ll try not to be too long.” Moira nodded and sank down in the space beside the dumpsters.
Bal-Simba’s size and appearance may have attracted attention, but it made it remarkably easy for them to get an elevator. In fact as soon as the door opened on the first car the four tourists in the front row took one look at them and bolted. The other passengers pressed back against the walls, leaving them plenty of space.
They paused just outside the elevators and Jerry briefed Bal-Simba on their mission.
“Okay, this is going to be a little tricky since we’re not on the invite list. So we’ll just have to fake our way in. Act like you belong, smile a lot and be noncommittal.”
“Will they not know we do not belong?”
“They’ll know we’re not on the guest list, but they can’t be sure we won’t do them some good. We only need a few minutes to find out if Taj is here anyway. Follow my lead. And remember, smile a lot and say as little as you can.”
Putting his advice into practice Jerry smiled at the people manning the table outside the door and picked up a press kit as if he was interested. Then they walked into a wall of noise.
If the show floor had been a madhouse, this was bedlam. Up on stage a lounge band was backing a female impersonator belting out torch songs. The place was packed, of course, and everyone seemed to be trying to talk over the band and each other. Along the walls four bars were going and a huge buffet table dominated the center of the room, complete with a melting ice sculpture of what was probably supposed to be an orchid. There were orchids everywhere. Clouds of them. Wreaths of them. Garlands of them. Orchids as boutonnieres, orchids as corsages. Orchids as centerpieces. And where there weren’t orchids there were crepe streamers in orchid purple and white.