Casinos in Space, a full-length novel serialized for Casino Detroit Magazine
Copyright © 2000 - 2010 By Howard Berenbon
Chapter 5
Where's Paul?
It was a typical busy late afternoon at the Mirage Hotel lobby. People were moving every which way: some in, some out and some just stationary, gambling at slot machines near the doorway.
"Where the hell did Paul go?" Mark asked sounding concerned. He looked back at the entrance and then scanned the front desk.
"Well," Barry said, "I don't know.
"He was with us a few minutes ago, but just vanished from the walkway as we were heading back to the hotel."
Elena, Susan and Jane approached the men as they headed toward the elevators.
"We're glad we found you, guys," Elena said. "Win any money?"
"Well, yes," Barry said.
"Where is Paul?" Jane interrupted. "Is he gambling again?"
"Well, uh," Barry hesitated. "He was with us, uh, coming back from the casino, but, uh, we lost him."
"What, did you use him as collateral in a craps game?" Susan asked, jokingly.
"That was very funny, honey," Mark said. "This is serious."
"You're kidding, I hope," Jane said nervously, ignoring Susan. "Tell me you're kidding."
"Jane, I'm sorry," Barry said, "we're not kidding. Paul disappeared off the walkway as we were approaching the hotel entrance." He hesitated, and then said, "I think it may have something to do with this Slim character. Has Paul ever talked to you about Slim?"
"Yes, but he hasn't said much," Jane said. She new more about Paul's relationship with Slim, but she was embarrassed to say more. Paul's earlier confession about his encounter with women at the topless bar still angered her, and she just wanted to put it out of her mind. "I've never seen Slim, and frankly, I don't believe there is such a person. I'm sure of one thing though: something is terribly wrong."
Barry tried to reconstruct the events that led up to Paul's disappearance, but he couldn't come up with anything new. "It had to be that dust storm," he said. "There's no other explanation."
"Now, what?" Mark asked. "Maybe he's at that warehouse bar having another $500 martini with some hookers." Jane's face twisted slightly, but no one noticed.
"Well," Barry said, hesitating, "we can start there. I can't think of any other place he may have gone.
"And if Paul is hanging out with this guy named Slim, who happens to be a ghost, then we should be looking for Slim as well. But, this supernatural stuff doesn't make much sense to me."
"Maybe he's at the casino," Jane said. "He's been gambling a lot."
"Sorry, Jane," Barry said. "We all left together and somehow he disappeared off the walkway."
"That's terrible," Susan said. "What can we do?"
"You women can stay here," Barry said, "and call us if he shows up. Mark, we'll check the monorail maintenance area. Maybe he's back at that bar."
The artificial sun began to set as Barry and Mark started to search for Paul. As they rode the monorail to the aft station, crimson rays of artificial light glowed across the artificial heaven creating a picture-perfect background for any vacationer with a camera. Unfortunately, their vacation was not yet going as planned, and Paul was again at the center of some nervous excitement.
As they exited the monorail and started down the stairway to the lower level, street lights were burning their halogen orange glow as real darkness set upon the artificial sky dome of the Las Vegas. Above, the stars appeared to smear and streak across the clear dome as the ship raced beyond the speed of light toward Vega and the Briney System.
"Well, Mark," Barry said, "here we go again, in search of Paul. I hope you charged your weapon. Mine is, and it can't hurt to have a little fire power on our side." He then opened his wallet and pulled out what looked like a credit card. After pressing down on the trademark symbol, the card changed its shape into a small pistol.
"Mine is fully charged," Mark said as he opened his wallet and removed his credit card. "You cover me, I'll cover you. No limit on my credit."
They cautiously entered the maintenance corridor that followed the monorail tracks one level below the hotels. As they turned to their right, they heard a rumbling sound approaching from the dimly lit corridor.
Mark and Barry instinctively dove to the ground as the sound rumbled and buzzed overhead.
"We need to relax," Barry said with a nervous laugh as he stood up. "That was the monorail."
"Now you tell me," Mark said, then standing and wiping off the dust on his pants.
"Come on," Barry said, "let's get going. We may have a lot of ground to cover. This corridor will probably take us completely around the ship."
They were cautious as they walked, following the curve of the monorail tracks, passing doors and other corridors every one hundred feet or so. The main passageway was well lighted, but the corridors connecting the main corridor were not. After a few minutes of walking, Barry stopped to gaze down one of the branching corridors when he thought he had heard a noise.
"Did you hear that sound?" Barry asked, turning to Mark.
"I didn't hear a thing," Mark replied. "But I have to admit that your hearing is better than mine. Maybe you heard some rats."
"There it is again," Barry said. "It sounds like buzzing or music."
"Well," Mark said, concentrating. "I do hear something, but it sounds like it's far away, and down the main corridor."
"There it goes again," Barry said. "Now do you hear it?"
The giant mosquito slowly flew over Mark and Barry, weighed down by its recent blood feast.
"What was that," Mark said, swatting his arms. "That was one loud buzzing noise. It's one big fly if it's a bug."
They both looked up to try to identify the source of the sound, but they only saw a shadow move into an open doorway a few feet away.
"See, anything?" Mark asked.
"I thought I saw something go through that doorway. Maybe it's Paul."
"If it was," Mark said, "then why didn't he see us and come this way?"
"Good question," Barry replied. "But, let's take a look away."
As they cautiously approached the doorway, they found their sound source. Music was leaking into the corridor through the partially opened door, and it was coming from deep inside the room.
"Paul are you there," Mark shouted, but no one responded.
"What a smell," Barry said as they entered. "Someone's been smoking up a storm." Then he understood when he saw the stage and lights from the entrance. "Hey, Mark, this is the bar that Paul was talking about. But nobody's home, except for the stench."
They moved inside and started looking around.
"It looks like whoever was here, left in a hurry," Mark said. "Drinks are on many of the tables and all the lights are on. That's odd."
"Well, hello there buddies," a voice called out from a back room. "Nice to see you again."
"Barry, I think we may have found Slim," Mark whispered. "Maybe Paul is here, too."
"Who are you," Barry said, and then scanned the room, but he saw no one.
"Hey, guys, I'm friends with your old partner Paul. And he calls me Slim. You can too."
"Where are you?" Mark asked. "We can't see you."
"Check back here," Slim said. "I'm waiting for you in the back room, boys."
Mark and Barry cautiously walked toward a rear door, laser weapons drawn. When Barry kicked the door open, Mark rushed in with his weapon waving. "Okay, get your hands up, Slim. Paul, where are you?"
No one alive was inside. They found the source of the stench, though, with three purple-faced people, two men and a woman, dead on the floor.
"Paul!" Mark cried out, bending over a dark-haired male.
Barry moved closer to get a better look and said, "That isn't Paul. Mark, take it easy."
Then they noticed a large hole in the neck of each of the victims. "Now that is definitely strange," Barry said. "And there's no sign of a struggle, and no blood."
"Slim, where are you?" Mark yelled. "What have you done with these people? And where the hell is Paul?"
"Hello, partners," Slim replied. "I'm just a buzzing around here above you. Take a look up at me, boys."
Mark looked, and then Barry followed, after seeing Mark's eyes widen. What they saw was the head of a man on a mosquito's body hovering above them. This was no ordinary bug. It was as big as a dog.
Then Mark screamed a scream that echoed in and out of the bar. The noise caused the mosquito to back away for a moment, but then it charged.
In the instant the bug dived, Barry had his laser armed, aimed and fired the deep red-hot beam through its body. Blood splattered everywhere as the dog-sized flying monster burst apart and then fell to the ground near the three victims. The red explosion didn't miss a surface.
Barry and Mark found clean tablecloths to wipe away the warm red fluid from their faces.
"That head," Mark said, "it was hideous."
"Especially when it was talking and attached to that ugly bug," Barry agreed.
Mark glanced at the silent, dead, mosquito lying on the floor next to the three dead people and then gasped. "My God! Where is the head? Barry, did you shoot the head?"
Barry took a closer look and said, "No, I shot at the body, probably where she stored the blood, wouldn't you agree?" Then he laughed.
"Well, yes, but," he paused.
"But take a look at that nose," Barry interrupted. "It's about a foot long. That's a mosquito's head, for sure. I swear I saw a face."
"Whether it was an illusion or our imagination, it's still an enormous mosquito," Mark said. "We've got to tell the captain."
"That can wait," Barry said. "We've got to find Paul, first, dead or alive."
"Right," Mark agreed. "Let's hope he's alive, somewhere nearby; and at least he wasn't one of these victims."
They cautiously left the bar, with laser guns drawn, looking, now, like killer clowns in costumes dotted with bloodstains.
###
To be continued .....
Chapter 2: You Can Count On Me
