“Okay, I’ll start heading to it. And Des?”
“Yeah?”
She paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
He chuckled bitterly. “I don’t blame you. I probably wouldn’t have, either.”
“Stay safe. I love you.”
“Love you too. I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up, took out Gonzalez’s business card and another two quarters, and input the number and the money. The FBI agent answered quickly.
“Jesus Lewis, it’s dangerous to call–”
“Don’t worry, I’m at a payphone.”
“They can still tap those, you know.” She lowered her voice. “I need you to listen very carefully.”
“Okay.”
“I saw them take you. I couldn’t stop it, but I took a photo of their rear license. Lewis… it was a G14 plate. Government.”
That didn’t surprise him. He remembered watching a documentary about alien conspiracies on the History Channel as a kid where they mentioned some mysterious men in black driving a Cadillac with a G14 license plate. When the investigators looked up the number, they’d found it registered to a Parks & Rec Jeep Wrangler in Texas.
“We can’t confirm it’s the CIA though,” he pointed out.
“CIA, NSA, EPA, I don’t really give a shit at this point,” she said. “The point is we are in over our goddamn heads.” She paused. “How did you escape?”
“Jumped from a moving vehicle in the middle of Vegas Blvd. They followed me on foot, threw a cop off a bridge, and chased me into the Orbital Casino.”
Gonzalez sighed. “Okay, okay… Man, this has turned into a real clusterfuck. Our only way out is to get concrete evidence of what they’re doing at Arcadia and show it to the world.”
“What exactly do they do at Arcadia?” he asked.
“Whatever it is, it’s evidently worth tearing up Las Vegas to keep it from getting out.”
His shoulders suddenly tensed, the migraine in his head returning. He breathed deeply in and out as his vision became blurry again. The phone slipped from his fingers. He turned around and fell back against the wall as his normal sight returned. The astronaut stood in front of the elevators, evil blue radiance shining out of its helmet. Nobody else seemed to notice it.
“Lewis… Lewis?” her distant voice came from the handset, dangling by its cord.
The creature began aggressively stomping toward him. Never taking his eyes off of it, he reached down for the phone and picked it up. “Gonzalez, it’s here. It’s here with me.”
“What? The Arcadia agents or–?”
“No, the thing from the game. The astronaut, it’s here!”
People nearby started looking at him. A mother began pulling her daughter away back into the exhibit. One person even said: “What are you looking at?”
The thing was only five feet away now.
“Lewis, listen to me. It’s not real. They’re fucking with your mind. There’s no monster. It can’t hurt you if you don’t let it.”
It stopped right in front of him, breathing heavily. Its gloved hands rose to the sides of the helmet and began pulling it off.
“Lewis…”
The bright blue light spilled out in all directions. He brought his right hand up to shield his eyes. His left was still pressing the receiver to his ear.
“Lewis,” Gonzalez said sternly. “It’s the brainwashing. Nothing is there.”
The helmet fell to the floor. This time, it was the little boy’s face that stared back at him. His eyes were black as coal and large veins ran all over his glowing blue head. He smiled, revealing sharp teeth. “Desmond…” the thing coaxed, in a voice way too deep. The little cranium was far too small for the hulking body of the suit.
“It’s standing right in front of me,” Lewis said slowly. Sweat dripped from his forehead. “It’s talking to me. It’s been following me through the entire casino.”
“No, it hasn’t. Only those men have. It’s not there. You’re going to draw attention to yourself and the real monsters will find you if you don’t–”
The abomination grabbed him by the throat, pinning him back against the wall. He began choking, the phone still clenched in his hand.
“Jesus,” a man said. “Somebody get security, this guy’s going nuts!”
Snap out of it, Lewis told himself.
The astronaut tightened its grip, the little boy’s face grinning evilly. “How could you ever forget about me?”
“Fuck you,” he gasped. In a swift motion, he smashed the receiver into the creature’s head as hard as he could. It roared and fell back, collapsing to the floor. Lewis turned around and spoke rapidly into the phone. “Meet me and Jenna at the Solaria nightclub!”
Then he hung up and ran, past the astronaut as it climbed back to its feet, past the shocked onlookers, and straight around the corner into the nearest elevator, just as the doors closed. The people inside shrunk back against the walls, clearly disturbed by his appearance. He knew he must look like he was hopped up on drugs. He now understood why that gas station clerk had assumed that about Miller.
“Sorry,” Lewis said as the doors opened to the main floor. He dashed out and took a right, finding himself running down the cyberpunk-style boutique corridor with its neon-lit LEDs and giant digital ads paneling the glass walls. The nightclub had to be this way.
He turned a corner and saw the entrance. A giant logo stood over it displaying a model of the solar system with the sun in the center. The letters S-O-L-A-R-I-A were spaced out and glowing orange. Beyond the mouth of the venue, he saw darkness and flashing lights.
Lewis’s joy was cut short the moment he stepped forward. Blackwell and Caruso walked out from an adjacent concourse which led back to the atrium. They looked surprised to see him but said nothing.
All three parties froze.
Then Lewis dashed for the entrance. The two government agents lunged forward, racing to block him. Too late. He barely slipped past Blackwell’s outstretched hand as the blackness of Solaria engulfed him.
27
As his eyes began to adjust, he saw a tall, buff man materialize before him with his palm out in a stop symbol. He had to speak very loudly so Lewis would hear him over the blaring techno music.
“I need to see some ID, bud. Those are the rules.”
Lewis glanced over his shoulder. The silhouettes of Blackwell and Caruso stormed toward him.
“Hey, buddy! Show me that ID and you’re good to go.” He had his arms crossed now and appeared to be chewing gum.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Lewis said, fumbling to get out his wallet. He flashed the man his California driver’s license, but the bouncer grabbed it to look at it more thoroughly. Lewis tapped his foot impatiently. Come on man, I don’t have time for this bullshit right now.
A heavy hand smacked down on his shoulder. He turned to see the two agents right behind him. “You’re coming with us,” Blackwell said. “Or your girlfriend dies.”
“Bullshit,” Lewis told him. There was no way they had her.
“Yo buddy,” the bouncer said. “You’re clear. Have a nice night.”
He took the card, discretely flipped the bird to Blackwell and Caruso, turned, and entered the nightclub.
Solaria was a large venue with two levels. Directly ahead of him was a free-standing metal staircase that led down onto a dance floor with alternating blue, fuchsia, and white tiles. A large bar called the Lagrange Point ran the length of the back wall, a crimson light strip radiating along the front of it. Directly above the bar was the DJ’s booth, a glass and metal structure that looked the like the bridge cockpit of a sci-fi starship. He could see a twenty-something guy wearing sunglasses and working a glowing blue mix table.