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?”
“I’ve used Sunshine.”
“I suppose you can keep it.”
“Just relax, dear,” said Abigail. “Your term is just about up. This should be a breeze.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to see you here, Ms. Rogers. I thought that…” Tilly let it trail off, not wanting to bring up anything related to the Tranquility Harbor tragedy.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Tilly got up and left through an exit door. When she arrived at her room, she sat on the bed and studied the map of the casino interior. It had three wings, with four major levels that catered to entertainment and gambling. Davy Jones Locker was located in the south wing, on the first floor near the corner of the building. A few minutes later, Dorothy walked into the room, holding an identical casino map. She sat on the bed, looking flustered. Tilly asked her about her job assignment and location.
“Well,” she puffed, “I got the dinger. The Atlantis Arena. Or should I say kitchen? It just happens to be the largest headliner dinner-show in the whole casino—seating capacity of nine grand. I’ll be on the scullery line, naturally. At one time they were thinking about automating the whole wash system but dropped the idea when they found out it would be too expensive to install the automechs.”
“Aw, nuts. I’m sorry to hear that. That which does not kill you gives you a really soft bed to collapse on after work.”
“At least.”
Tilly took a quick shower, combed her hair out and brushed her teeth. There wasn’t much else she could do to herself, given the limited supplies they had furnished her. She didn’t see a problem with getting an early start, especially with a new coach. She headed out the door, following the map. An elevator ride to the first floor brought her to one of the largest gambling areas. Employees and wards were required to follow marked yellow aisles. She stayed precisely on those paths. She passed by a huge elevated half-moon stage bisected with purple drapes. The motif waxed nautical, displaying mermaid statues, treasures chests, palm trees and ship’s masts. A neon marquis announced the stage as Davy Jones Locker. She found rehearsal room 24 behind a left wing of the stage. She pushed through the swing door and paused to admire the interior.
The room was oval; makeup and wardrobe took up the right wall, props and scenery filled the rear wall, while the left wall side was equipped with a practice dance floor, workout area and mirrors. She recognized a few coaches, since they wore matching blue trunks and sweat tops. Each had a whistle around their neck and an Omnicomp on their wrist. Tilly moved toward the wardrobe racks, familiarizing herself with the pieces. They had a nice, organized selection of everything ranging from Bronze Age peasant clothes, to contemporary fluff. Several display cases held costume jewelry, watches, hats and eyeglasses.
At the end of an aisle, Tilly froze in place to look at a clothes rack. She saw bikini thongs fashioned from rope, looped through snip hangers. Any notion that Candy Evans was not on Seven Seas property vanished in a nanosecond. In fact, they’d processed her before Tilly, since her costumes were laid out and ready to go. So, her act would follow Candy’s act?
“You gonna knock ‘em dead?” a voice asked over her shoulder.
Tilly turned. Sue Lin stood in the aisle, dressed in a coach’s outfit and wearing a neck brace. Tilly thought she could die of happiness right then and there. She resisted the urge to pounce on her coach. She answered with a wide grin, “I’m gonna rip their hearts out.”
“Who’s the gawd damned sugar shack queen in this place?”
“I am!”
Sue Lin pumped a fist in the air. “How hot are you?”
“I’m nuclear hot.”
“That’s what I want to hear!”
Tilly stepped up to her and, mindful of her injury, hugged her affectionately. She couldn’t keep the tears from flowing. “Oh, Sue Lin, for a long time I didn’t think there was any hope. How did you manage to get out of it?”
“I got as many as I could to the shelters before I got short on breath. I had just enough time to make it to a utility airlock before I passed out. Hit my damn head on the way in. They found me three days later and put me on a medi-vac shuttle to Earth. I spent a day in the hospital then demanded to be assigned to my group. They put up a fuss, but I put up a bigger one.”
“I guess you can’t keep a Japanese nightingale caged for long.”
“You’ve got that right. I heard about your dormitory. Hard luck. Leona Billings bit the big one.”
“Yeah. But Fia and Dorothy are fine.”
“That’s good to know. Now what do you say we get your program set up. I’ve got a few others to line up, but we’ll get you squared away quickly. You’ve got two one-hour segments. How about four routines apiece? We’ll cut and splice. They have a music library here, larger than the last one.”
“I’ll get busy.”
Sue Lin stabbed some buttons on her wrist comp. “I just logged you in—that’s how it works here. “Oh, in case you didn’t know; little miss hot pants is going on before you. Luck of the draw.”
“I know. I’ll make the best of it.”
Tilly remembered her opening act at Tranquility Harbor. With some tweaking, she could open her show with those intro numbers and dazzle the crowd. Hopefully. This was Vegas-Henderson clientele, a culmination of dignitaries, socialites, gamblers and high-income attendees comprised of both sexes. What’s the worst they could do to her if she flopped? Bust her down to backup dancer and throw her in some pit?
She gathered all of the outfits that came close to the style and cut she had worn before and organized them on a rack. When Sue Lin finished with her other clients, she checked Tilly’s outfit inventory and took her to the sound room, where they programmed her music and lighting effects. Sue Lin gave the stagehands the selections for the props and scenery. Back in the rehearsal room, they ran through several dry runs, sans music, getting Tilly’s rhythm and timing down. Tilly met her fill-in act, Ron, who juggled and breathed fire.
Tilly’s first show would begin in few minutes, and felt the familiar butterflies in the stomach. Tilly heard the applause from the rehearsal room. When Candy entered the backroom and sat at her makeup table, one of her groupies toweled her shoulders off with a cool rag. Dressed in full makeup and costume, Tilly walked behind Candy’s chair and saw the girl’s dagger eyes in the reflection of the makeup mirror. “Break a leg, bitch,” said Candy.
I know whose leg I’d like to break, thought Tilly, as she stepped around the corner, ready to part the drapes. There was no fanfare in calling her act. An announcer’s voice simply called out, “And now, Sunshine!” She burst onto to stage and began her walking strut. She sidled up to the edge of the stage, making eye contact with individual dinner guests. With the tilt of her hat and a swagger, she stomped a foot and pushed off for a spin. Her driving foot went out from underneath her, sending her straight up in the air. She came down on her butt with a jarring thud, the wind leaving her lungs with a whoosh. For a moment, she couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and couldn’t breathe. Trying to push herself up, her palms slipped in an oily substance on the floor. She tried to scream, but gagged. She felt the sensation of being dragged from the stage, sliding across the oil-smeared floor like some broken rag doll.
The first sounds Tilly heard from her new audience were boos and hisses. She’d managed to humiliate herself within 30 seconds of her opening act in front of God and everybody, her most horrendous debut in memory.