The Girl They Sold to the Moon (16 page)

No one told them where they were going. No one told them where they had landed. The only geographical landmark Tilly saw as the shuttle came in for the long glide was endless miles of desert, scrub and arroyos. She caught the edge of a glittering city, filled with tall buildings and glass architecture.

Fia stared out the window. “I'll bet you 100 imperials that we're over Africa.”

“I'll say it's the Middle East,” said Dorothy. “I heard a rumor that a rich Arabian sheik needed about 50 sunflowers to work in his palace.”

Tilly frowned. “You're both space drunk. We don't even know if we're going back to work yet. Maybe they want to ditch us in some outpost until this thing blows over.”

Fia looked at Tilly. “You should know more than any of us that the show must go on. I'm telling you, we're getting reassigned.”

After departing the shuttle, and being accosted by a stifling dry heat, they were ushered aboard a pearl white executive maglift bus, with gold-stenciled letters on its side that read,
The Seven Seas
. As the bus turned onto an access road, Tilly craned her neck to get a look at the city skyline. She rose in her seat. Everyone in the bus seemed to gasp at once. A sign on the airport road confirmed their location—McCarran International Airport. They had just arrived at the Las Vegas-Henderson Gambling Complex in Nevada.

Tilly's group and four others began their initial processing in the basement of the Seven Seas Casino, located on the newly paved and palm-lined Atlantis Avenue. All instructors and stewards were called out of line and taken to parts unknown. Fia's prophecy had come true, which left Tilly and Dorothy facing an inevitable new job assignment without her. The girls were issued new tags, with different code numbers. Their Sunflower designations remained the same. The scans, examinations, and delousing rituals were not as thorough as they had been before, since the Seven Seas facility had not been prepared for such an influx of new employees. Tilly also noticed something hectic and disorganized in the command structure with the new casino. No one seemed to know their true job description or their area of responsibility. But the chaos came with a blessing—the staff were more forgiving, even gentle with their new prospects.

Tilly and Dorothy exited the shower and stepped into an alcove. Reciting their codes to a clerk, they were given hygiene bags, underwear, six blue one-piece suits with the Seven Seas logo and two room key cards. Tilly hesitated, looking at the card. She handed it back. “I think you made a mistake.”

The clerk narrowed her eyes. “You're being funny? Double occupancy, one bathroom, two single beds. You're not getting a whole suite.”

“We're supposed to be in a dormitory.”

“Am I supposed to pull one of those out of my ass? We don't have dormitories at a five-star rated hotel-casino. You'll take a room and like it!” She flung the card back. “Don't forget your orientation at the Grotto conference room at 8:00 AM sharp. Until then, you're confined to quarters.”

Tilly pocketed the card and stepped away from the counter. She changed into her suit, using every ounce of control she had to keep from laughing out loud or screaming for joy. Dorothy felt the same, giggling so hard she couldn't get her feet into the pants legs. She fell on her butt and squirmed into the suit. Once they had dressed, they were off and running. When they entered a hallway, they stopped to catch their breath. They couldn't help but admire the sculptured carpet beneath their feet, scenes of leaping dolphins, gliding turtles and flying fish. Just gorgeous.

Tilly looked at the room number on the card with a shaky hand. “Room 920…and it's all ours.”

“Yeah!”

They followed the wall maps until they found the appropriate elevator. They took it to the ninth floor, stepped out and walked down the hall, filled with anticipation. They found room 920 occupying a corner of the building. When they entered, they stood in amazement, gathering in the sights. A rich deep blue shag carpeting covered the floor from wall to wall. Two aquamarine single beds, with trident posts and fish net canopies, took up the middle of the floor. A small dinette table fashioned from an old hatch cover sat over two cutout gunpowder barrels, padded with velour seats and backs. Seascape paintings adorned the walls. When Tilly and Dorothy stepped into the bathroom, they found the walls impregnated with sea shells and a bathtub fashioned in the shape of a clam shell.

“Can you
believe
this place?” said Dorothy.

Tilly bounced on a bed and then stepped up to the drapes. Behind the drapes sat a sliding glass door that opened up onto a small balcony. She opened the slider and stepped out. She had a bird's eye view of the entire Strip, from the old end of town up to where she stood at the ninth floor window. A spectacular sight. She inhaled a chest-full of dry desert air. Dorothy joined her there, her eyes wide. “Beware of gift horses,” said Dorothy, mystically. “It all looks too good to be true. I have a feeling we're in for a tough time of it here.”

“Well, they can confine me to my quarters anytime.” Tilly opened up her satchel kit. She found the ordinary items, with an additional packet that contained envelopes, writing papers, pens and postage stamps. How primitive, she thought. But then she realized that the Seven Seas hotel-casino might not have any restrictions on post-delivery. A notation inside the packet said that outgoing mail should be placed in the box on the wall next to the front door. She looked across the room and saw the box marked MAIL. She couldn't imagine how they would keep the postmark from revealing her location, but she felt sure they had a way of disguising it. She had no doubt that they would open the mail and censor it, and then reseal it.

She wrote a quick letter to her father. She left out any mention of the Tranquility Harbor disaster, certain it would be blacked out. The letter served more as reassurance to herself that she had survived. Pleased with its brevity, she read it loud enough for Dorothy.

“Dear Dad,

Everything has been going along just fine. I can't complain about the treatment, and the work isn't too hard. At least the hours are agreeable. I'm glad I have so many friends I can turn to for companionship and advice. Some of the instructors are real gems, and I've learned so much in these past five months. I have a big surprise about one of these friends that I think you'll find very interesting. I can't wait to tell you when I get home. I'm not allowed to say how much, but I've made a little tip money that will come in handy for my college education. I hope you'll be proud of me. I would just love to live in Hawaii, somewhere on the coast near the water. Remember how I used to run up and down the sand and chase the seagulls? I'm looking forward to you telling me all about the new business when you pick me up. Well, bye for now…

Your loving daughter,

Tilly”

“Now that's sweet,” said Dorothy. “You've got only a month left, you lucky dog. A couple months from now, you'll be taking hula lessons and wearing flower leis. I wish I could be there with you…I can just see some hunky cabana boy oiling me up and feeding me pineapple wedges. What a life.”

“Uh, huh.”

The door chimed. Tilly looked through the peephole and saw Fia on the other side. She swung the door open. They embraced and danced around the room. The three sat on the bed.

“I didn't think I'd find you,” said Fia. “I must have knocked on a hundred doors. I'm on the first floor with my own room. That's the way they play it with supervisors, stewards, counselors and coaches—special treatment.”

“Where did they take you?” Tilly asked.

“Debriefing. They're going to throw a huge security net over the Tranquility Harbor disaster. No leaks, no press, no gossip, no conversation with casino customers or employees—a complete blackout. They have it rigged if you step outside of casino property—your chip alerts security. All supervisors are ordered to report any subversive activity, which includes plotting, sabotage and escapes.”

Dorothy wrung her hands. “Gosh, it was an accident of nature, plain and simple. Why would they have to cover it up?”

“Because of the lawsuits that are already starting to pour in,” said Fia, her tone serious. “Oh, word will get out all right; it's just that United Western Mining thinks their lawyers can combat secondhand information better than actual witnesses. You are witnesses. They don't want anybody that was there lipping off about anything. I don't have actual numbers, but the rumor is that about 400 were killed. That's a hefty chunk of people. On top of that, somebody is passing around a petition for a class action lawsuit, citing pain and suffering. Do not sign it. Don't even discuss it. You'll thank me later.”

“Did you hear anything about Sue Lin?” asked Tilly.

“They won't release a list of the injured or dead. She could be in a hospital on Earth by now. Like I say, they're plugging leaks as fast as they find them. I do know that our dormitory took a direct hit. Just an estimate says that we lost 30 percent of them, mostly prancers, tweets, slingers, maitresses, kitchen workers and janitorial. They were all in the Entertainment division. We were last minute fill-ins for this casino, which is opening up in a week. From what I understand, it was an act of sympathy and reverence.”

“Did you see
anybody
we knew from the old crew?” asked Tilly.

Fia closed her eyes, shook her head. “I didn't see the director or the division coordinators. That old bag of sticks, Abigail Rogers, made it out with a broken ankle. She's here now, trying to get a program together that had everybody on her roster.”

Tilly slipped her letter in the mail box and paced the floor. Just a little while ago, she'd been running down the hallways, giddy as a schoolgirl and acting like a selfish, unconcerned little brat. She knew the news on the Moon hadn't been good. But to hear it confirmed firsthand set the hook in her heart and tugged hard. She had survived one the worst off-planet tragedies ever. When the facts of the disaster were finally revealed, she and her friends would be fixtures in that historic event—surviving eyewitnesses. That's
if
the story ever came out with the real facts and figures.

“Don't look so dumb-struck,” said Fia. “It wasn't our fault. It's not all bad. They have an entertainment division here. There's a good chance we'll be doing the same thing we did before. I don't think you'll be headlining here, Tilly, but I'm sure you'll get an act. Seating capacity is 9,000 for the largest show arena. From there on down, you're looking at 3,000 to 4,000 seating for the smaller lounge acts. They've got me lined up serving tables at some place called Nemo's Lounge.”

“Oh, gawd,” said Dorothy. “That means the kitchens are bigger, so now I can climb onto the dishes before I stack them.”

Tilly frowned. Technically, the last thing she did was kitchen work, so she could end up right along beside Dorothy in the scullery line.
Oh, the hell with all of it
, she thought.
I'm going to handle anything that comes at me, no matter what. If it goes according to plan, I've got less than a month in this desert oasis
.
If it doesn't go according to plan…well, we'll see then.

Orientation lasted the requisite three days. The safety inspectors took up most of the time, pointing out emergency procedures, demonstrating firefighting techniques, passing out laminated emergency exit cards and teaching basic first aid techniques. They ran the group through fire drills and building evacuation. All of the extra safety instruction made it plain that the Seven Seas Hotel and Casino would not tolerate any misunderstandings when it came to regulation codes. The no frat rules remained in strict enforcement. Contact with casino employees and guests were forbidden, while loitering in the casino gaming areas earned an infraction. Employee pathways were prescribed.

Tilly showed up at a conference room for a stage act interview on the fourth day. She had to wait in a line that wrapped around a hallway corner. It took over an hour to reach the entrance. When her name was called she entered through a set of double doors. The conference room was comprised of a single long table in front of a bank of chairs, occupied by several people who wore identification badges, most prominently, the director of operations, the Seven Seas president of entertainment, Jasper Newman, and Abigail Rogers who now assumed the position of consultant to Jasper Newman.

Jasper said, “You have an impressive portfolio, Ms Breedlove, and it seems like you've had some success in the entertainment division. From what I've been told, your act is unique, but I'm not so sure compared to what I've seen here in the Vegas-Henderson complex. Abigail Rogers has informed me of your prowess and talent, so I am inclined to take her word for it. However, we can't offer you a headliner act here, since we have those positions filled. A lounge act would be more appropriate, since we must first consider applicants who are experienced entertainers in this city. Would you approve of such a position?”

“I don't think I have any choice.” Although, she didn't know what to make of his comment about her act not being unique in the Vegas-Henderson complex.
I am an amateur again. Such is life
. But wasn't that what she wanted all along? A real start in a real professional Earth-side gig?

“Good,” said Newman. “We have an instructor-coach lined up for you. She'll meet you at 2:00 PM in rehearsal room 24 at the Davy Jones Locker Lounge this afternoon and prep you for your show. She'll also be the one to log you in and out. Two one-hour shows; one at seven and one at ten—evening appearances. I would advise you stay around the lounge area in case you're called in as an emergency replacement. Is that clear?”

“Yes, it is.”

He handed her a laminated direction map, then made a few keystrokes. “Do you have a stage name?”