17

Space Vegas

The pod sped them through the tube, not as fast as the bullet train but fast enough that sitting strapped in was the only option. It was a second or two before the walls cleared into transparency, allowing them a view of the spaceport across which they sped.

Theirs was one of several such tubes, all radiating from the central hub, like spokes on a wheel, to the far-flung points of the port. The port looked like a large concrete desert stretching out to some distant green hills. The endpoint of each tube was always the same: what looked like a sleek delta-winged aircraft hooked up to its terminal tube by a covered platform and retractable corrugated umbilical. Theirs was no exception, for ahead of them they could see the craft that they now approached.

“I thought we were headed up into space,” Claire remarked. “Didn’t you say that involves a tall, pointy rocket?”

“Space travel has apparently evolved,” Ben replied. “Rocketry isn’t my field, and unfortunately, Sam’s not with us.”

“Fortunately, high-security military projects are my field,” Captain Beck put in, “and that thing looks like an advanced development of some concepts we got rolling around. The space shuttle was only meant as a stepping-stone. The endgame is to have a system that has no need of a rocket to get up into space, but is a completely reusable system from start to finish. This looks like we finally achieved that goal. Probably takes off much like that bullet train we felt, then angles straight up.”

“Whatever it involves, just act like all this is perfectly normal to us so we don’t stand out,” Agent Hessman cautioned.

“Nonsense,” Claire decided. “That’s a sure-fire way to stand out.”

“Miss Hill, our goal is not to be noticed.”

“First off, in a few months it’s going to be ‘Miss Stein,’ so get used to it,” she corrected, “and second, the name is Claire.”

“Claire,” Agent Hessman reluctantly addressed her.

“It’s like what I’m wearing versus you guys. Or going to the boardwalk. You remember when we were at Steeplechase Park? Did you ever see anyone there looking bored, like they’d seen it all? No, they were all excited. We’re going on vacation to Space Vegas on our first trip into orbit. Who can act bored for something like that in any century?”

That said, she relaxed back into her seat, satisfied that her argument had been won. From the looks on the men’s faces, it had been. As their pod began to slow with its approach to their terminal, Captain Beck leaned over for a quiet word with Claire.

“You’ll have to excuse Lou. He doesn’t do ‘excited vacationer’ very well.”

Their pod came to a halt at a terminal similar to where they had boarded. As they exited their pod, a stewardess was there to help them out and welcome them with a smile.

“Welcome to Virgin Spaceways’ flight to Space Vegas. You must be the party from the university.”

“Yes,” Agent Hessman began, all seriousness. “We’re here to check out—”

“Space Vegas!” Claire said with a hop to her step. “Oh, I’m so excited!”

“First-time visitors, I see,” the stewardess said as she led the way. “They’re always so enthusiastic.”

Claire flashed Lou a quick grin. Then Ben got willingly into the act and wrapped an arm around her waist. “We’re actually here to celebrate,” he said. “I just asked her the question,” whereupon Claire held up her left hand and flashed her new ring with a bright smile.

The stewardess replied with a nod and motioned them onward. “Congratulations, Miss. Now, if you’ll just step across the gantry, you can be in Space Vegas in no time and begin your new lives together.”

The gantry was a simple metal walkway leading from the terminal chamber, guardrails on the sides, but it was surrounded by a corrugated rubberlike tube that reached out the entire length, sealed at the far end in a circular housing around an open metal aircraft door and another smiling stewardess. Agent Hessman was ready to lead the way, but Claire nearly dragged Ben on ahead, giggling as she went. She was the first to produce her travel card for the spaceline stewardess waiting at the other end, the terminal number floating in bright numbers in the air above her.

The lady produced a hand scanner and flashed it across the card, then reached for Ben next in line as she greeted them. “Welcome aboard. My name is Tiffany and I’ll be your stewardess for the duration of this trip. If there is anything you need, just say so.”

She scanned Agent Hessman’s card next, then lastly Captain Beck’s, and he did have a question.

“Uh, I have a question, Miss. If you’re prone to seasickness, will this . . .”

“If you feel nauseated while we’re in flight, just hit your call button and I’ll be right there with a little something to fix you up.”

The interior reminded Agent Hessman of a jumbo jet, the main differences being that the seats were bulkier and a lot more padded and arranged on a gimbal system for reclining.

“Nice crash couches,” Ben remarked.

There were windows along the sides of the craft, just as in a normal airplane, and all the usual accoutrements one would expect of a plane. The floor was even carpeted.

“It looks like you’re going to be the only passengers today,” Tiffany said as she thumbed a red button to the side of the door, “so feel free to sit anywhere you like.”

“Window seat,” Claire immediately called out. “I want to see the takeoff.”

The door slid automatically into place, after which Tiffany rotated a large lever beside the red button down into place to lock it. Claire got her window seat, with Ben sitting beside her, while Captain Beck and Agent Hessman took the seats immediately behind them, though the captain did not take the window seat.

Shortly after the stewardess secured herself in a seat at the rear, a male voice called out through the speakers: “This is your captain speaking. We’re going to be taxiing out to our runway for takeoff; then it’s off for Space Vegas. We should be achieving orbit in approximately three minutes and then arrive at the station thirty minutes after that. Enjoy the trip.”

They felt the motion of the craft as it taxied into position. They could see the runway ahead of them through the window and felt the craft turning to align itself, then a brief pause.

They were slammed back into their seats, the view outside becoming a blur. The cabin was insulated, but even so, they could still hear the faint echo of a sharp whine. Then came a slight buoyant feeling as the craft began to lift off the ground. For several seconds they sped on and up. When they dared glance out the window the ground had grown quite distant and the entirety of the port could be seen as a large relief-map of itself.

“Hold on tight, folks. That was just the first step. We’re going into orbit now, but don’t worry; those acceleration couches will automatically adjust. You’ll only feel a little more pull.”

“What does he mean by ‘a little more’?” Captain Beck asked.

The craft suddenly curved into a sharp arch, aiming itself straight up with a rumble of power they could feel through the floor. Their seats automatically tilted to partially compensate for the angle, and they found the padding more than sufficient to absorb the impact of their acceleration. Even so, movement of anything but one’s eyeballs was not an option.

Through the corner of her eye, Claire could see the ground speed away until the entire outline of England came into view, storms and all. She tried to giggle in awe and delight, but movement was still restricted. Agent Hessman, though, was noticing other things. Things like the full reach of the London dyke system and what a mammoth project it was, and the oversized reach of a couple of hurricanes covering the Atlantic nearly from shore to shore.

By the time three minutes had passed the acceleration suddenly lifted and they found themselves afloat above the earth.

“You can now undo your restraints, folks, and walk around if you wish, but I advise you to keep to your seats. The trip will only take us half an hour, so just enjoy the flight. Tiffany will now come around to see if any of you want anything to drink.”

Claire was all delight, snapping off the restraint button so she could get a better view of what lay outside. She was still staring openmouthed when she noticed something: her large hat was floating up off her head. “My hat!”

“It’s the gravity,” Ben told her. “We don’t have any.”

“Well, it is a very strange feeling, let me tell you. You don’t find this unusual?”

“Oh, very. We’re both in the same boat on this one. Er, spaceship rather.”

“About time. Oh, there’s Europe. But look at all those clouds.”

While Claire was ogling the view, with Ben looking over her shoulder for his own stunning glimpse, Agent Hessman was giving it a more methodical study. Captain Beck opted for avoiding the view when the stewardess, Tiffany, came walking by.

They could feel the weightlessness, and Claire finally had to take off her hat and hold it against her chest, but Tiffany seemed to have little trouble with it. She was walking slowly, each step deliberate as she approached. “Would any of you like something to drink?” she asked.

Agent Hessman glanced over to see that her shoes had something resembling Velcro on the bottom soles to grip her into place, while Captain Beck had a more pleading expression.

“Scotch?”

“You’re just nervous,” she stated. “Here, this should help.”

She handed him a small pill, which he immediately swallowed and then did his best to relax back into the chair.

For Claire and Ben, the next thirty minutes were an unending parade of orbital sights, their windows automatically opaquing against the power of the sun when required. For Agent Hessman it was more of a studied examination of the world as a whole, though he was not above admitting to himself to a certain amount of awe at the sights.

The first thing Agent Hessman noticed, however, was the vibrations coming from one of his pockets. He reached in and discreetly pulled out his time beacon and checked the readout on its front along with the red flashing light. Putting it back, he leaned in to address the others.

“Our beacons are now out of range. If we ever need to use them, we’ll have to get planetside first.”

“No quick exits,” Captain Beck stated. “If we get hurt up here, then . . . Well, we don’t have Dr. Weiss here to tell us the possibilities.”

“We’ll be careful,” Ben agreed.

“That’s still not going to get in the way of my enjoying all this,” Claire said. “Would you just look at all that out there . . .”

The warning noted, Claire went back to gazing out the window, while Captain Beck felt the little pill easing his nervous stomach. Half an hour later an announcement came from their captain that directed their attention to an even brighter spectacle.

“We are on final approach to Space Vegas, so if you’ll just strap in while we match rotation, you can catch a great view of it. I personally never tire of this sight.”

Ben had imagined a boxy little station, cramped and confined, such as what astronauts in the movies swam through, and Claire had no preconception at all. What they saw, though, exceeded any expectation or lack thereof. It was a vast plate, as if someone had taken an entire city and covered it. The center portion was a solid disc a few miles across and what looked to be several stories tall, with windows dotting its sides. From the center a large shaft grew both up from the top and down through the bottom. A shaft that Captain Beck was certain would be thick enough on which to park the main core of the little international space station from back in 2020 with room to rattle. The upper shaft stretched up a thousand feet before ending at another disc, this one maybe half a mile across and five stories tall. The lower shaft likewise ended at a third disc that was about half the width and height of the main disc.

Scattered around the outer perimeter of the main disc were what looked like docking mechanisms with massive clamps to secure the crafts and extendable airlocks and gantries ready to reach out and lock on, some of which already had vessels similar to their own parked in place.

Then there were the lights. At the very top of the upper disc a large red ball was brightly shining. A beacon of some sort, no doubt, but that was the least of it. In typical Old Vegas style, this station was far from being the drab gray metal military port some would have been. Lights lit up in rows running completely around the main disc, flowing in colored patterns that made it seem like a large sparkling gem. In the open region between the main and upper discs, holographic projections hovered in place, rotating with the station. Letters the size of buildings spelled out the name SPACE VEGAS, accompanied by fireworks-like displays and all the glitz one could ask for.

Between the main and lower disc hovered a series of smaller holographic signs, each advertising one hotel or attraction or another to approaching visitors. Takeoffs on Old Vegas names rotated slowly around the hub—The Astral, The Stratosphere, The Galaxy—some along with the names of supposedly famous acts performing there, though all the names were lost on those now watching. The lower disc itself was lit up with blue and silver running lights flashing around in swift circles, then pausing before reversing direction or briefly changing to a fixed pattern.

Taken as a whole, Space Vegas was enough to render everyone silent as it loomed closer. Even Claire was stuck for words.

As their craft got closer, its course altered to run parallel to the main disc, carefully sliding in closer while matching the rotation of the station. Closer in they could see that this disc was even taller than it had seemed from afar, and anything but slender.

“That must be fifty stories high,” Ben finally managed to utter.

Beside him Claire could only absently nod while her jaw hung open

.

Space Vegas Exterior

Space Vegas Interior

“Well,” Captain Beck said with a swallow, “leave it to Vegas to do things right. Lou?”

“Okay, so color me impressed,” Agent Hessman admitted. “But that’s a lot of space to search.”

As their course came to match the circular rotation of the great station, Claire’s hat drifted gently down into her lap and that odd feeling in their stomachs started to ease up. Closer they got until it was a vast, glittering wall before them. Aiming for one of the airlocks, they carefully approached, slipping gently in, until they were running parallel with it. The large mechanical clamp reached out for the front of the vessel, coming down surprisingly gently. Then a dull thud was felt, the sound ringing through the hull, and they watched as the gantry started reaching out. It was basically a square metal tube with an airlock door at its end surrounded by a thick rubber seal and a series of small clamps. It reached toward their cabin door; then moments later an even softer impact was heard, then a sharp hiss from just beyond the heavy door. All sense of motion ceased, weight returned to their feet, and the captain’s voice once again came out over the cabin speakers.

“We have docked. You may get up and leave the cabin just as soon as Tiffany opens the airlock door. You will find that the rotation of the station approximates Earth’s gravity when around the outer perimeter. Don’t forget any of your belongings, and have a great time at Space Vegas.

Claire nearly bolted to her feet, pushing Ben ahead of her, in her eagerness to see what lay beyond. Captain Beck, though, looked more relieved than eager. “At least my stomach feels normal again,” he stated.

A turn of the lock, a press of the red button, and the door automatically slid aside, revealing not a cold, metallic gantry but a plush, velvet-lined, brightly lit walkway with red carpeting beckoning them to enter.

“Ooh, the red-carpet treatment.” Claire beamed. “I feel like royalty.”

“You look like royalty,” Ben couldn’t help but reply.

Adjusting her floppy white sunhat and smoothing her dress, Claire was the first to step out onto the walkway, her face lit up with a smile nearly as bright as the lights ahead of them. Agent Hessman came alongside Ben as they passed Tiffany on their way out, with Captain Beck at their rear.

Once they were midway down the hall, Agent Hessman discreetly checked the detector in his pocket and was rewarded by a short readout. “We’re within range of Samantha’s locator chip,” he whispered to the others. “She’s definitely somewhere on this station.”

“Tracking her should be pretty straightforward then,” Captain Beck remarked. “How exact a fix can you get on her?”

“Not very. There’s any number of electronic signals interfering around here and a lot to look through from the looks of it. Best we have is a proximity alarm.”

As they approached the end of the walkway, ahead of them it opened up into a whole world of lights, sparkle, and glitter.

“It still shouldn’t be too bad, though,” Captain Beck said.

Ben and Claire came to a sudden stop where the velvet hallway joined the expanse beyond.

“Uh, you ever been to Las Vegas, Robert?” Ben asked hesitantly. “Because I think we have a problem.”

Captain Beck and Agent Hessman stepped up to join Ben and Claire for their first view of Space Vegas. The cavernous expanse of the foyer reached two hundred feet across, several stories up, and as many down, and was festooned with walkways with glass guard walls, platforms sporting rest stops with seating and computer-terminal kiosks, glass elevators scattered about, and a multitude of people milling about. Across the open gap they could see the edges of one level upon another, some with various bars and cafés running the length of their walkways, others with brightly lit corridors heading deeper into the innards of the station. The open foyer didn’t stop until five or six levels down, where it ended at some sort of promenade, and five or six levels above their heads, at a ceiling through which stairwells and more glass-covered elevators led.

Silvery balls hung suspended in the air between levels, around some of which floated images of either some local performer or directions to whatever hangout paid for the advertising. Music played, whatever the hit of the day happened to be, interrupted by the occasional announcement of flight numbers leaving or arriving, calling for some lost person to report to a numbered concierge desk, or simply welcoming visitors to Space Vegas.

Across at some of the bars hovered more holographic displays, as well as others beckoning down one hall or another. In short, the whole place sparkled; it was the Las Vegas Strip rendered in 3D, and this was just one foyer in a vast three-dimensional city.

The wild clothing they had seen in London now seemed tame by comparison, though, in truth, most of the more revealing outfits looked to be worn by employees of the adjacent cafés, bars, and gambling establishments. Statuesque young women in short-skirted, transparent dresses lit up by their own shifting displays that danced around the hidden portions of their beauty; hairdos that flowed with a life of their own, their colors gradually shifting from blond to brunette and back again; patrons in long dresses woven of shifting patterns of light, and one whose dress was barely a few strategically placed strips of lights and no cloth at all—this was just a sampling of the women’s fashion on display. Men passed by with their own unique looks, from glowing ten-gallon hats and foot-long handlebar mustaches to faux-leather jackets decorated with rhinestones that gleamed from their own inner lights.

It was a degree of glamor that stunned all there and had Claire looking shyly away from some of the passersby.

“It’s like Vegas times ten,” Ben stated when he could speak again.

“And this is just one of the entries,” Captain Beck said slowly in agreement.

“Would you look at what some of those people are wearing?” Claire remarked. “Someone was worried about how I might look? I’m starting to feel like the guy in the business suit.”

“I guess that explains the electrical interference,” Agent Hessman stated, “but we may have another problem.”

“You mean this isn’t enough?” Ben asked.

“Ten o’clock left and two levels down,” Agent Hessman directed.

All eyes followed his directions, across and down, to the sporty entrance to one of the glamorous hotels; something with an apparent Egyptian theme. Alongside greeters dressed like Cleopatra and Marc Antony, they saw a couple of men in uniform—blue-and-green uniforms with a symbol on their chests that looked like three concentric rings around a capital T.

“The time cops from London,” Captain Beck said. “They’re still trying to track us down.”

“Yup,” Agent Hessman stated, “and we have to evade them while looking for Samantha. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“It looks like Jeffery was right,” Claire put in. “There’s always a chase wherever we go. So, everyone ready?”

From the bright smile on her face, one might have thought she was looking forward to the encounter.