Part 7 (1/2)

aNeutron spectroscope,a the manager explained. aWe get a lot of Asian customers with gold.a It took time to test the coins and more time to count out the cash. In the process Jerry had to sign a statement saying who he was, that the gold was legal and that he had paid all the applicable taxes. He noticed that the manager didn't ask them for identification.

aNow do we begin our search?a Bal-Simba asked as they threaded their way back through the casino.

aNow we go get our credentials,a Jerry said. aThat will take a good chunk of this money.a aExcuse me,a said a woman's voice off to one side. Both men turned and took a blinding light full in the face.

aThanks,a said a shadowy form perfunctorily as she lowered her camera and pushed by them.

Bal-Simba bunked as he tried to get his sight back. aWhat was that?a aThat was a reminder that we need some different clothes.a Jerry frowned. aBut that's going to take more time andaa Then his rapidly returning sight fell on an arcade of shops off beyond the registration area. aCome on. It'll be expensive, but we need to save time more than we need to save money.a The shopping arcade angled off from the registration area leading to one of the hotel towers. Beyond the frozen yogurt shop, the jeweler's, the furrier's and the aart gallerya selling brightly colored paintings whose kitsch was only exceeded by their prices, was the men's store Jerry had known had to be there.

The place had an Italian name that Jerry thought was some kind of sausage, but he wasn't picky. The interior was all white and old gold and decorated in a way that for some reason reminded Jerry of a tapestry woven of polyester. The salesman was tall, lean and dressed in an extreme version of Italian style. He was also showing a five o'clock shadow.

aMay I help you?a he said in tones that indicated he probably couldn't, but he was going to go through the motions anyway.

aUh, my friend and I need some clothes.a The man looked them up and down. aI'll say.a aThey lost our luggage and all we have left are our costumes. We need something for street wear.a aHmm,a the man said. aHmm,a he said again. aHey, Meyer, can you come out here a minute?a Meyer was a wizened old man with thick gla.s.ses set low on his nose. His trousers were dusty with chalk and he wore a tape measure draped around his neck like a shawl.

aThey need some street clothes,a the younger man told him.

Meyer looked them over with an obviously professional eye. aCome on back into the fitting room and let's see what we can do.a aHe keeps me around for color,a the old man confided as he led them into the back. aPfafh! Like I'm a museum exhibit or something.a Like its inhabitant the back room wasn't nearly as fancy but looked a lot more businesslike. Meyer whipped the tape measure off his shoulders and began to lay it against Jerry's body. aMy nephew. He should have learned his trade at his father's kneea”G.o.d rest hima” but instead he goes off and gets an MBA. An MBA! Better he should learn tailoring to run a haberdashery, no? But kids, you can't tell them anything. So, you want suits or what?a aSomething less formal,a Jerry said.

aHmm,a the old man said without stopping his measurements. aPity. I could do some real good things for both of you in suits.a He sighed. aBut these days, you don't get a chance to show off what you know. Well, at least it's not leisure suits any more.a Museum exhibit or no, Meyer knew his business. With hardly a pause he had both Jerry and Bal-Simba measured and the sample book laid out for them to pick the cloth.

aHere you go. Not a thread of polyester in the bunch. Just show me what you want and in two, three days we'll have you turned out sharp.a aWe were hoping for something today. Something we can wear out of here.a aYou want miracles too?a aWe can't go walking around like this.a aI don't see why not. You look like a bartender from the Excalibur. That's a hotel,a he added at Jerry's puzzled expression. Then he nodded toward Bal-Simba. aHim, he's a problem.a aIt can be just about anything. We're kinda desperate.a He looked at Jerry. aIn that case, you I can fit off the rack, almost. Your frienda”a He shrugged. aThat's special.a aHow long will it take?a aSo you're in a hurry too?a aLook, if it's a matter of moneyaa The old man waved him to silence. aIt's a matter of possible. A challenge like this I haven't had in a long time, but even soaa Again the shrug. Then he brightened. aWait a minute. I do have something a customer never picked up. I can even make you a price on ita A few minutes later Jerry stepped out of the dressing room the picture of Las Vegas casual. His polo s.h.i.+rt and slacks fit him beautifully. The clothing felt odd after the loose s.h.i.+rts, tunics and breeches he had worn for so long at the Wizards' Keep. The shoes were stiff and pinched a little after the soft leather boots of the other world, but he could get used to it.

aAre you ready?a he called into the dressing room where Bal-Simba was changing.

aI believe so,a Bal-Simba said, somewhat hesitantly.

Bal-Simba emerged wearing a puffy-sleeved pink s.h.i.+rt open to the navel. A fancy vest fitted tightly over the s.h.i.+rt. Tight tan bell-bottoms stretched across his ample rear. He had left his bone necklace around his chest and a snap-brim hat with a leopard-skin band completed the outfit. Meyer fussed around him, pulling down the vest here and tugging the s.h.i.+rt into position there.

Jerry looked his friend up and down. aWe don't have to guess the guy's profession, do we?a The old man shrugged. aSo who asks? Now come on up front and we'll get you taken care of.a Jerry gulped when he saw the bill, but he peeled off hundreds without comment. aThe rest of the stuff, four o'clock tomorrow,a Meyer admonished. aI swear not a minute sooner.a They found Moira outside by the dolphin pool, posing for pictures with a family of tourists while a couple of bemused security guards looked on.

aDon't you need a leash for that thing?a one of the guards asked when Jerry came up to rejoin her.

aAudio-Animatronics,a Jerry explained.

aNo kidding?a one of the guards said. aLike the showgirls?a Jerry wasn't sure whether he was joking or not so he just smiled.

There was a covered slideway from the lobby to the street, but Jerry led them down the ordinary sidewalk beneath it. He wasn't sure how his friends would take to a moving walkway and he wasn't at all sure Moira would be able to keep her tail out of the gears.

aHow do we begin our search for this wizard?a Moira asked as the three made their way out to the street.

aFirst things first. We gotta get registered. We do that at the main Convention Center.a aWhere is that?a aThere.a Jerry pointed to one of the towers springing up out of the desert. aIt's further than it looks.a aHow will we get there?a aWalk. I don't think they would let a dragon on a shuttle bus. Besides, we don't have credentials so they won't let us in either.a Bal-Simba nodded and the strangely a.s.sorted trio joined the knots of business-suited convention-goers drifting down the sidewalk toward the distant tower.

You would think that a twenty-foot dragon parading down the main street of a major American city would attract at least some attention. You would be wrong. Anyone who's been in Las Vegas more than forty-eight hours has found stranger things than that on the breakfast buffet. The only interest came from the occasional gawker in a car stuck in traffic, and truth to tell they seemed more taken with Bal-Simba.

aWhat is all this for?a Moira asked as they walked along. aWiz compared it to the Winter Fair once, but I never understood.a aIt's a trade show for the computer industry,a Jerry said. aAll these people are connected with computers somehow.a aAnd they are here to buy and sell them?a Jerry shrugged. aWell, they used to be. Then the distribution channels got better established and most of that business moved elsewhere. Then for a while everybody came to see the new products that were being announced. But the show got so big and there were so many announcements that most of the really big ones aren't made here any more. Then it was the place to meet people. But now it's so big you have trouble doing that.a He fell silent.

aThen why do people come here?a Moira asked.

aI guess,a Jerry said slowly, abecause it's here.a The air was cool and the desert sun merely warm rather than blazing. Even so, Moira was showing signs of stress before they reached their destination.

aI am sorry, My Lord, but this body cannot go much further,a Moira told them finally. aIt is worn out and I, I am feeling unwell.a The way she said it made Jerry wonder about what happened when a dragon barfed. He decided not to be in front of her if it happened.

That's okay. I told you it was further than it lookeda He glanced down the street. aLook, the Convention Center is right down there. Why don't I go ahead and you two follow when she can? I'll have to wait in line for a while anyway.a Registration was in a big blue-and-white tent erected in the parking lot at the Convention Center. Jerry breasted his way through the thickening crowds around and inside the tent to get a place in line to register.

aHow many?a the woman behind the counter asked.

aTwo, no make that three sets.a aFill out the forms over there and when you get done bring them back here.a Secure in the knowledge that no one would pay any attention to what was on the forms until he was away from this world, Jerry indulged in an orgy of mendacity. By the time he was done he was president of his own company, Bal-Simba was aWizard In Chief* and Moira bore the t.i.tle of aExhibit A.a Since he had signed them all up for the seminars as well as the exhibit halls, the bill was in four figures. So much so that he was momentarily taken aback.

What the heck, Jerry thought, it's only money.

By the time he emerged, the better part of an hour later, Bal-Simba and Moira were waiting for him.

aHere.a He handed Bal-Simba a paper bag of literature. aMost of this is junk but we can go through it later.a Next he gave Bal-Simba his badge. aDon't lose this. You have to have it showing all the time.a The big wizard raised his eyebrows.

aIfs, uh, a talisman, to get you into the exhibit areas.a Bal-Simba nodded and clipped it to his vest.

aWhere shall I attach mine?a Moira asked.

aJust clip it to youra Ah, right. That is a problem.a Then it occurred to Jerry there might be a bigger problem. Even with a badge it would be nard to get a dragon into the exhibit areas.

aWait a minute,a Jerry said, aI've got an ideaa Ignoring the thronging crowds, Jerry went over to a banner decorating the side of the building. He quickly cut the ropes and gathered the banner as it fell.

aHere,a he said to Bal-Simba, ahelp me drape this over her.a With Bal-Simba holding one side of the sign, he threw the other over her back and crawled under her stomach. He barely missed being decapitated when Moira involuntarily raised a ma.s.sively clawed hind foot.

aBe careful, will you?a aWell, it tickles,a Moira said.

With a little tugging and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g he managed to get the cords tied under the dragon's belly. That left the sign draped like a horse blanket over her sides. As a finis.h.i.+ng touch he pinned Moira's badge to the banner.

In the process Jerry noticed they had gathered a knot of onlookers.

aA dragon?a he heard one of them say.

aThat's the code name for IBM's third-generation Personal Digital a.s.sistant,a announced woman in a serious gray business suit with Raiders shoulder pads and a pale silk jabot tied like a bow tie. aThey're pre-pre-announcing at the show to build momentum.a Her companion, a middle-aged man in a three-piece suit and a pony tail, looked unimpressed. aI think they should have stuck with the Little Tramp.a aI thought Harris was the company that used the dragon,a said another bystander.

aSee?a Jerry said softly to Moira. aThis way everyone will think you're advertising for a producta aBut the people who own the sign will know she is not with them, will they not?a Jerry smiled up at the dragon. aForget it. It's IBM. They're so big and so confused everyone will just think it's from another division.a He turned to Moira. aIf anyone asks tell them you were part of the Lotus acquisition. That'll really keep 'em guessing.a Dragon and wizard in tow, Jerry made for the main entrance. The closer they got the thicker the crowds became. Although most of the throng was white and in business suits it was a wonderfully diverse group. Perhaps a quarter were women, dressed in everything from business suits to bunny suits (literallya”someone had a product code-named aEastera). There were Indian Sikhs in business suits and turbans, American Sikhs in cotton pajamas and turbans, there were Chinese (both kinds), j.a.panese and Koreans from the Far East dressed in business suits. There were Chinese-Americans, j.a.panese-Americans and Korean-Americans, mostly in the American techie outfit of short-sleeved sport s.h.i.+rts and slacks. There were impeccably tailored Europeans and rumpled Americans. There were full beards and pony tails, although both were tending to gray and the pony tails started further back on the head than Jerry remembereda”a reminder that the original technically oriented generation was being replaced by the corporate types, which made him a little sad. Here and there you could see the long white robes of an Arab or the rainbow robes of a West African.

They were standing in line waiting for shuttle buses, sitting on the gra.s.s eating off paper plates, leaning against the building resting their feet, handing out newspapers, rejecting newspapers, and talking, talking, talking. In addition to English of every conceivable variety, there were French and Spanish, Chinese and Korean, j.a.panese and Hindi, German and Russian, and a couple of things Jerry wasn't even sure were languages at all.

He drank it all in in pa.s.sing and flowed with the current of humanity toward the gla.s.s doors that led into the exhibit hall.

Three steps through the door and Jerry was in information overload. The place was not merely packed, it was stuffed. There were thousands of people in every direction, crammed shoulder to shoulder and seemingly all in motion. You couldn't stand still unless you sought the lee side of an object to protect you from the flow.

aMy Lord, I do not think I have ever seen so many people in one place at a time,a Moira said in Jerry's ear.

aNeither have I,a Jerry told her. aThey're estimating two hundred and fifty thousand attendees this year.a aI see why you said this would be complicated,a Bal-Simba rumbled.

Jerry flicked him a tight smile. This isn't the complicated part.a Their first stop was the message center, in the hope that Taj had left someone a message saying where he was. Jerry didn't have a lot of hope for that and he was right. After battling their way through the crowd and waiting in line at a terminal, Taj's message box contained nothing but a couple of junk-mail announcements.

As they turned away and prepared to press onward, a man stepped in front of them waving his arms.