CHAPTER III
Las Vegas, Nevada
Rick and Scotty picked up their luggage at the baggage counter, thenpaused to survey their surroundings. McCarran Field, the airport for LasVegas, Nevada, was modern and attractive. But there was no mistakingthat this was desert country. Beyond the airport they saw the barrenmountains of the Charleston Range, and behind the motels clusteredaround the airport, they saw flat desert, thinly populated with mesquiteand creosote brush.
"Welcome to the wild West," Rick said with a grin.
"Not a cowboy in sight," Scotty commented. "Plenty of dudes, though." Hegestured at a group dressed in loud sports clothes. "What now?"
"Let's take a taxi into town, register at the hotel, and then go toLomac."
"Okay." Scotty hailed a cab from the front of the taxi line. They loadedtheir baggage and climbed in.
"El Cortez," Rick directed. John Gordon had suggested that hotel, sinceit was close to Lomac's office in downtown Las Vegas, and the food wasgood and not expensive.
The taxi rolled through the gateway of McCarran Field and turned towardtown. In a few moments they began to pass the fabulous resort hotels onthe famous "Strip."
"Wow!" Scotty exclaimed. "Some bunch of fancy shanties!"
The taxi left The Strip, traversed the long lines of motels on FifthStreet, and emerged on Fremont a block from the Cortez. A few minuteslater they had checked in and were unpacking their bags in a comfortableroom in the Cortez Annex.
Scotty picked up the telephone directory and leafed through it until hefound Logan and Macklin. "We have to go to Sixth Street and FirstAvenue. Any idea where that is?"
"Just a couple of blocks from here." While riding in the taxi, Rick hadwatched street signs and quickly figured out the simple street plan ofthe town. "Let's go."
The Lomac offices were on the second floor of a building less than fiveminutes walk from the hotel. The boys received application forms from abored clerk and sat down at a table to fill them out according toprevious plan. In his application Rick emphasized his experience withelectronic equipment and in wiring circuits. Scotty stressed hismechanical experience with standard machine-shop equipment, and withmotor repair. This had been John Gordon's suggestion, since it wouldresult in their being placed in different departments at the rocketbase, thus enabling them to cover more ground.
The clerk checked their forms, then nodded. "Okay. We can use both ofyou, if you pass the security check. Ever been cleared?"
"We're both cleared for top secret," Rick told him.
"What agency?"
"JANIG."
The clerk glanced up but made no comment. Rick guessed that JANIGclearances were not common. He was a little surprised that the clerkknew the agency; not many people did, because JANIG's activities werenever publicized.
"It will take anywhere from a few days to two weeks to get yourclearances verified and your files transferred. We can't do anything foryou until then. When we want you, we'll call you. That's all."
Rick hesitated at the door. "Where are the used-car dealers located?"
"Fifth Street and Main Street."
Rick thanked him and the boys walked out into the brilliant sunlight."Feel up to getting the jeep?" Rick asked. The boys had taken off fromNew York shortly after midnight and had ridden all night on a planethat, as Scotty had said, "landed in every cow pasture west of Chicago."They had not slept much.
"Let's get the jeep," Scotty replied. "We can catch up on our sleepafter lunch."
However, getting the jeep was not as simple as they had expected. Notuntil they reached the fifth used-car dealer did they find one for sale.
Scotty put the jeep through its paces, then drove it back to the carlot. He looked at it thoughtfully and shrugged. "I wouldn't call it apile of junk, but that's only because I'm polite."
The salesman, a lean Westerner, looked pained. "What do you want for theprice? A Jaguar?"
"No," Scotty said. "Just something that runs."
"This runs."
"Not exactly. It limps. Put a new timer in, replace the front-wheelbearings, grind the valves, and we'll take it."
Rick smothered a grin. Scotty's wink had told him the jeep would do. Hispal was trying to get the price down.
The salesman sighed. "How are you going to pay for it?"
"Cash. Either repair it, or knock off the cost of repairs, and it's adeal."
"You named it. We'll knock off the repair costs."
In another hour the jeep was theirs and the boys had obtained a vehicleregistration and Nevada driver's licenses. As they drove to the hotel,Rick asked, "Is it really in good shape?"
"Not bad. It does need some work, but we can do it in a few hoursourselves."
"Now that we have wheels, let's get cleaned up, have a nap, and then seethe town," Rick suggested.
"I'm with you," Scotty agreed.
It was lunchtime when they returned to the hotel. They settled for hamand eggs in the Cortez Coffee Shop, then stopped on the way through thecasino to watch the gambling. Even at noontime the dice table was jammedwith customers, and the blackjack tables were nearly full. The roulettetable was not getting much play, however, and they watched for a fewspins of the wheel.
"At least you get an even break on this one," Scotty said. "The odds arethirty-five to one, and there are only thirty-six numbers."
Rick grinned. "How'd you like to have your life hanging on odds ofthirty-five to one?"
Scotty chuckled. "Anyway, you don't have to play numbers. You can playblack or red, or odd or even. That gives you fifty-fifty odds."
Rick shook his head. "You forgot something. The wheel has zero anddouble zero, and they're green, and neither odd nor even. That makes theodds less than fifty-fifty. You can't win, Scotty."
"Kill-joy. How about the one-arm bandits?" He pointed to several rows ofslot machines.
"No help there, either. It depends on how they're set, but usually outof every four coins you put in, one drops out of play completely. Theonly one who ever sees it again is the man who owns the machine. So, ifyou keep feeding money in, eventually the machine will take it all.Sometimes the machines are set to take one coin out of every three, oreven one out of every two."
"But people do win, gambling," Scotty objected.
"Sure they do. That's why people gamble--and hope. But the greatmajority lose." Rick waved at the luxurious casino. "If most peopledidn't lose, these casinos couldn't operate."
"Maybe I'd be the lucky one," Scotty said.
A deputy sheriff had been listening to the conversation with amusement.He tapped Scotty on the shoulder. "I said that once, son. I was going tobe the luckiest ringdangdoo that ever hit Vegas. And what happened? I'vebeen working in this hotel as a guard for two years, trying to make astake big enough to go back home and start where I left off when the bugbit me."
"Tough," Rick murmured.
"The town is full of people like me. Besides, you lads can't gamble,anyway. The legal age is twenty-one. Come back in a few years if youfeel rich and foolish, and try bucking the tiger. You'll see what Imean."
"We'll take your word for it," Scotty assured him. "Come on, Rick. Let'shit the hay. I can use a nap."
If Las Vegas was spectacular by day, it was a neon nightmare after dark.The boys dined well, and more than sufficiently, at El Rancho Vegas,then got in the jeep for a ride around town.
Scotty loosened his belt with a groan. "For once," he admitted, "Ioverdid it. Did you ever see so much chow?"
"Not outside of a supermarket," Rick agreed. He let his own belt out anotch or two.
The boys drove to Fremont Street, past the incredible gambling hallswith their elaborate signs and miles of neon tubing.
Scotty remarked, "I guess you and that deputy sheriff were right. Ittakes an awful lot of lost money to keep all these places going."
Tiring of the neon wilderness they turned north on Main Street andheaded out toward Nellis Air Force Base. For a brief stretch the neonglow faded, then resumed agai
n as they reached North Las Vegas.
Suddenly Scotty pointed. "Hey! We're on another planet."
Rick stared. Towering into the sky was a huge, illuminated figure cladin a spacesuit. The transparent helmet glowed red, then blue, green,yellow, and finally red again. In one colossal hand was a supermodernpistol. Colored flame spurted from the muzzle.
Rick laughed as he noticed another figure in front of the establishment."Look! He's got a pup."
Acting as a doorman was another figure, human size, clad in a similargetup.
Across the building which served as a base for the giant spaceman was aglowing sign:
THE SPACEMAN CASINO
"What say we drop in?" Scotty suggested.
"Sure," Rick replied, falling into the role of a science-fictionspaceman. "We might pick up the latest gossip on that uranium strike onVenus, or the discovery of live prodsponders on Mars."
Scotty swung into the parking lot. "Tell me, Space Commander, what areprodsponders?"
"A subspecies of sponprodders. Your ignorance surprises me, CadetScott."
"I haven't been to the inner planets for a week," Scotty apologized. "Ilose touch."
They walked across the driveway, noting that the customary shrubs andplants were replaced here by artificial ones, made in a form thatrepresented someone's idea of what plants from other worlds must looklike. The effect was actually pretty good. The place had been built withimagination.
The spacesuit-clad doorman nodded, and they saw that he was perspiringfreely inside the transparent helmet.
"Who ever heard of a non-airconditioned spacesuit?" Rick murmured. "Bethe couldn't survive the Venus-Mercury run in that rig."
Inside were the inevitable slot machines, in banks of fifty or more.Rick decided the objective must be one slot machine for each person intown. Behind the slot machines were the dice layouts, roulette tables,and blackjack tables.
Beyond the casino proper, however, was a pleasant lounge that included asnack bar and tables for dining. The boys wandered over to the snack barand sat down on stools, looking around with appreciation. The walls weredecorated with murals--photographic reproductions of a famous artist'sconception of other planets.
"This is nice," Rick said appreciatively.
"Best place I've seen since Callisto Connie's joint on Jupiter," Scottyagreed whimsically.
A waiter, not much older than they were, wandered down the counter. Hewas dressed in a loose tunic that glittered.
"Howdy, fellas," he greeted them.
Rick and Scotty "howdy'd" back.
The counter clerk eyed them with interest. "Haven't seen you in herebefore."
"First time," Rick admitted. "Nice place."
"We like it. You from Scarlet Lake?"
The boys stiffened. "What gave you that idea?" Scotty asked quickly.
The waiter admired his fingernails. "Easy. You're not local folks andyou don't look like tourists. So, you came here to work. Maybe theatomic test site, maybe Nellis, maybe Scarlet Lake. I said Scarlet Lakebecause a lot of people from there come in to eat when they're in town.Some of 'em here right now."
"Where?" Rick asked.
"At the tables over against the wall. What are you going to have?"
Neither boy wanted any more food at the moment, and said so. They agreedon coffee.
"Here or at a table?"
"Table," Rick said. "Might as well move in with the people from ScarletLake, starting now." He led the way across the room and picked out atable next to two men in loud sports shirts. One man was big, nearly thesize of Dr. Zircon of the Spindrift staff. He had red hair and a curlyred beard. His eyes were dark and penetrating under bushy red eyebrows.He looked the boys over with slow deliberation, as though memorizingwhat they looked like.
The second man was big, too, although he didn't approach the redhead insize. He was slightly over six feet, Rick guessed. He wasdark-complexioned and clean-shaven. His eyes, a light blue, were asurprising contrast to his dark hair and heavily tanned skin.
The redhead leaned over as the boys sat down. "I haven't seen you kidsbefore. You from Scarlet Lake?"
"We hope to be," Rick replied civilly. "We've applied for jobs at Lomac,but now we have to wait for a security check."
The redhead turned to his friend. "Catching 'em kind of young thesedays, hey, Pancho?"
Pancho showed white teeth in a smile. "Looks like it."
"We can do a day's work," Scotty said shortly.
"Never doubted it for a minute." The redhead thrust out a massive paw."I'm Mac McCline. Big Mac, they call me. This here is Pancho Kelly."
The boys shook hands and gave their names.
"Any idea what you're getting into at Scarlet Lake?" Big Mac asked.
"Not much," Rick said truthfully.
Big Mac guffawed. "Well, I'll tell you. Heat, dirt, sidewinders, andcrazy rockets. And if they don't get you, one thing will."
"What's that?" Scotty asked.
"The Earthman."