Gamboling in Las Vegas
As Jaycey was disappearing into the elevator, Professor Stanley Boomberg was appearing in the Arrivals Hall at Las Vegas airport. He’d had a short doze on the plane but felt worse for it. It was the night before B-Day, after all. He shouldn’t be hurrying to meet his wife in Las Vegas of all places. Panic had given way to sheer bad temper. And people were staring at him for some reason.
Holly was there waiting. Impatiently. She’d had a short nap on her plane too, but felt refreshed and ready for action. She stepped forward when she saw Stanley and took the pencils out of his ears. She so wished he wouldn’t do that in public. Even a genius looked silly with pencils in his ears.
“What’s gone wrong, honey?” asked the Professor as his wife thrust the pencils roughly into the breast pocket of his white coat.
“Nothing’s gone wrong,” said Holly shortly, wishing also that he would remember to take his white coat off when he left his laboratory. “But I knew you’d be fretting, so I wanted you with me. It’s called teamwork.”
It was also called sharing the blame but she wasn’t going to admit that.
“We are dealing with the most extraordinary creatures in the universe,” she added.
Stanley was beginning to wonder if he really did want them. Time was running out and he would make do with any old sheep. Even a couple of rats. But Holly didn’t give him the chance to say so. She turned and walked briskly away.
“Did you leave the crone and her kid at Back of Beyond Ranch?” she asked over her shoulder. “Like I told you to?”
Stanley stared blankly for a moment, then remembered the old lady and the boy. He decided against telling the truth.
“Yes,” he said, following her. “They won’t cause us any bother.”
“Good.” Holly strode on toward the taxi rank.
“So, have you located your extraordinary sheep again, honey?” asked the Professor, trying to keep up. “You do know exactly where they are?”
“Of course.” It was Holly’s turn to lie now.
The Professor looked around. “I don’t see them.”
Holly clicked her fingers at the nearest taxi driver. “Stanley, they’re highly intelligent animals,” she said, climbing into the cab. “They use helicopters and buses. There’s only one place in town they’d dream of staying.”
***
Wills and the others rode up and down in the elevator, looking for Jaycey. They trotted along endless corridors and peeped into hundreds of bedrooms. Back on the ground floor, they came to a door guarded by men in black suits. Wills read the notice on the door out loud.
“Serious Gamblers Only.”
“Gamboling’s what lambs do, eh?” said Links, puzzled.
“Yeah,” said Oxo. “Gamboling’s jumping up and down in a field. How can you be serious about that?”
They shrugged and pushed past the men in black suits. The people inside weren’t jumping up and down. They were sitting at huge round tables, watching cards being turned over or staring at little balls whizzing around black and red dishes. They all looked very serious indeed. The warriors wriggled their way past their legs to peer under the tables, but there was no sign of Jaycey. They hurried back to the entrance lobby.
“This place is too big,” sighed Sal, plonking herself down on the floor. “We’re never going to find her.”
“Not a good place to sit, ma’am,” said a waiter sweeping past with a huge tray full of drinks. “You guys probably want the thirty-fifth floor.”
He hurried on.
“We do?” said Sal.
They trotted to the elevator and another waiter helpfully tapped the call pad.
“Nice to have you with us,” he said as he leaned in and pressed button thirty-five.
The elevator went all the way up in one zoom. It was very fast and arrived at the thirty-fifth floor before most of the warriors’ stomachs. They waited a few seconds for them to catch up, then got out.
“Well, butt my butt!” said Oxo, staring.
It was as if they’d been transported back to England. Eppingham, even. But without the rain. They were standing in a sunlit meadow of real, lush grass. Above their heads, white clouds scudded across a blue sky, and in front of them a small flock of sheep, real sheep, grazed peacefully.
“Well, butt my butt too…” said Links.
***
Meanwhile, outside in the real world, a taxi pulled up in front of the Hotel English Meadows. Holly Boomberg thrust some money into the driver’s hand, then she and Stanley ran along the moving walkway. The large hotel map in the lobby told Holly what she wanted to know.
“Rural Paradise,” she snapped. “Come on.”
She hurried Stanley into the nearest elevator and pushed the button for the thirty-fifth floor.
“But if the hotel keep a flock up here,” said the Professor as they rode up, “how are we going to know which two are ours?”
“The sensors in their ears, darling,” said his wife shortly.
But still the thirty-fifth floor came as a bit of a shock.
“I don’t believe it!” muttered Holly. “Why are there so many wool bags? I can’t even see ours.”
“Wonderful, ain’t it,” said a waiter, placing a fruit drink in her hand, as he passed. “Peace and quiet under a blue sky, any time you want it, day or night.” He laughed. “It’s all done with lights and mirrors, but enjoy.”
He stepped into an elevator and the doors slid shut.
Holly turned back to the sheep and took a length of rope from her briefcase. She’d just caught a glint of artificial sunlight reflecting off the gold stud in Oxo’s ear.
“Follow me, Stanley,” she said. “Quietly…”
The warriors were talking earnestly to the hotel sheep and didn’t notice the two humans sneaking toward them.
“It’s all there in the Songs of the Fleece,” Sal was saying. “The beast will eat us all unless we stop it.”
“Red Tongue’s the name,” said Oxo. “You’ve got to get out while you can.”
“Yeah, yeah…” said one of the grazing sheep.
“We never go out,” said another.
They continued grazing.
“And then there’s Jaycey, eh,” said Links urgently. “A little black-and-white Jacob. Stupid but nice. Have you seen her?”
“Nope.” The grazers went on grazing.
Wills glanced up and saw Holly.
“Look out, Sal!” he cried. “It’s Staple Gun Woman!”
Holly lunged but Sal jumped out of the way and the rope missed. Stanley, meanwhile, had been told to target Oxo.
“Got you!” he cried.
He threw himself at the big ram just as the elevator doors opened and a crowd of people wandered out on to the real grass, exclaiming in delight at the rural paradise of peace in which they found themselves.
Wills saw the warriors’ chance.
“Run!” he yelled.
He raced for the open elevator with Links and Sal close behind. Oxo twisted and heaved and charged after them, with the thin man who’d tried to capture him being dragged across the grass, still clinging to his wool. Oxo turned his head to bite, but the man let go and rolled into the crowd of newly arrived humans.
The sudden noise and drama had panicked the hotel sheep in a way the warriors’ dire warnings had failed to, and they ran as well. They bundled, bleating and shaking, into the elevator after Oxo and the rest, and the door slid shut. It was probably the record number of sheep ever in an elevator.
“What is that woman’s problem?” gasped Oxo angrily, poking his nose above the mass of woolly backs.
“She’s crazy, man,” said Links.
“Can we get out soon, please?” Wills’s voice was a muffled squeak from somewhere at sheep knee height. “I can’t breathe.”
The doors opened and the bundle of baaing sheep tumbled out. There was no time to discuss where to go next. The bell on the second elevator dinged. Its door opened and Staple Gun Woman and her man burst out, followed by the entire crowd of people from the thirty-fifth floor.
With Oxo in the lead, the warriors galloped off down the nearest corridor and the hotel sheep followed. They skidded around corners and clattered down stairways. Staple Gun Woman and her man kept close behind, and more and more people joined the chase, until a huge mass of shouting, laughing humans were racing after them. Most thought it was another type of hotel entertainment laid on for the guests.
Oxo had no idea where he was going. He was running blindly. He burst into the entrance lobby and crashed into a waiter, then another, then another. Silver trays flew from their hands, showering drinks, sandwiches, fruit, and flowers on the floor, where they were trampled to a soggy mess.
Oxo saw the fountain too late. He didn’t have time to go around it. He plowed straight through, stepping on the nozzles as he went. Jets of water squirted and spurted around the lobby. People screamed, laughed, and skidded on the slippery floor. Some raced on after the sheep, whooping and yelling.
From the corner of one eye, Oxo suddenly saw a narrow doorway tucked away on the side of the lobby. He changed direction, charged through it, and shuddered to a halt.
He was trapped on a narrow landing, staring down a steep, spiral staircase. The rest of the warriors hurtled in after him and Oxo had to brace his feet on the concrete floor to stop himself being pitched down the stairs.
The hotel sheep didn’t try to follow. They milled about on the lobby side of the doorway, exhausted, terrified, and unsure what to do, having forgotten why they were doing it anyway.
Holly Boomberg started shoving them roughly aside. She was looking straight through at Sal and Oxo.
“Got you now, my clever little ovines,” she said, re-tying the noose in her rope.