Illusion Town

by Jayne Castle

  Games of chance had always held a peculiar fascination for humans, and people who possessed even a minimal level of psychic talent were the most easily attracted.

  “You’d think people would understand that being psychic doesn’t mean that somehow the laws of probability have been repealed,” Hannah said.

  Elias watched a player roll a pair of red dice. “Having a little talent just gives people a false sense of confidence. Makes them think they can beat the house.”

  “In this town, the house always wins in the long run,” Hannah said.

  Elias smiled. “Sure. Because in addition to having the math on their side, the casinos double down on the odds by hiring dealers who have some talent and a lot of really good crystal engineers to program the slots.”

  She slanted him a curious, sidelong glance. “Do you play?”

  “Hell, yes. I’m in the mining business, remember? Of course I play. But in my world the stakes are usually higher. Coppersmith makes multimillion-dollar bets on new territories all the time.”

  “Ever lose?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “That’s what keeps the game interesting.” He paused a beat. “But we don’t lose often.”

  She gave him a knowing look. “Something tells me you and Mr. Smith will get along very well.”

  The invitation from Maxwell Smith, the owner of the Amber Palace, had come within minutes after Hannah had made the call to her aunts. It seemed that Mr. Smith, one of the powerful members of the Illusion Club, was only too happy to do a favor for his old friends, Clara and Bernice.

  The interior of the Amber Palace glowed and glittered and sparkled. An adventurous tourist could find the raw world of hard-core gambling and sleazy nightclubs in the shadowy establishments in some of the other zones. But the Palace was one of the flashy towers in the brightly lit Amber Zone. Here, over-the-top flash successfully concealed the gritty, sweaty, perilous businesses that sustained Illusion Town.

  The crowded gaming floor was thronged with men and women dressed for an evening of glitz and glamour. The dresses were cut very low, the heels were very high, and for the most part, the fit of the men’s tuxedos had the slightly off look that indicated they had been rented for the night.

  The dealers’ tuxes, on the other hand, were all elegantly tailored. The gossamer costumes on the attractive men and women offering free drinks to the high rollers were designed to leave little to the imagination.

  Elias glanced at Hannah walking at his side and got a rush of pride and old-fashioned male possessiveness. His wife. At least for now. She was far more discreetly dressed than the cocktail servers but everything about her riveted his senses. The little green slip of a dress and the dainty, sparkling high heels underscored her sleek curves. Her hair was swept up in a cute twist anchored by a clip he hoped to unfasten later in the privacy of her bedroom.

  She wore minimal makeup compared to most of the women in the room, but in his opinion that just made her the most attractive female in sight. Her jewelry was limited to a pair of amber earrings and her necklace. In a city built on illusion she was breathtakingly real. The energy of her aura whispered secrets to him; secrets that beckoned and aroused him.

  She carried her little evening clutch, secured with a chain around her wrist, in one hand. Virgil was tucked under her other arm. He had the Arizona Snow figure clutched in one paw.

  “There’s a private elevator that will take us to Mr. Smith’s private quarters,” Hannah said. “We’ll check in with his personal security people first.”

  “I assume no one gets to Mr. Smith’s private quarters without an armed escort,” Elias said.

  “You don’t get to his level of power in this town without making a few enemies along the way,” Hannah said.

  They threaded a path through the crowd. The deeper they went into the casino, the more feverish the energy became. The stakes were higher in this section of the gaming floor.

  Wide strips of amber-and-mirror panels on the walls were arranged to reflect the glamorous scene as well as the paranormal currents that seethed and swirled in the atmosphere. A lot of good crystal engineering and architectural talent went into designing a successful casino. It was all built around the goal of separating people from their money.

  The high, vaulted ceilings were painted with scenes of fantasy landscapes. The themes were taken from myths and legends familiar to every child on Harmony. Ethereal emerald castles, strange cities built of transparent crystal, and startling, surreal scenes of the Rainforest and the catacombs abounded.

  There was no need to go back to Old World fairy tales for inspiration, Elias reflected. When the First Generation human colonists had arrived two hundred years ago, they had discovered ample material for new stories amid the ruins of the long-vanished Alien civilization. Humans were very good at storytelling.

  The casino’s security office was positioned near a private elevator lobby. When Elias and Hannah approached, a muscular man dressed in a tuxedo that was cut to conceal a shoulder holster looked up from his computer. Everything about him signaled ex–ghost hunter. Private security work was a common second career for retired hunters.

  The guard gave Hannah a warm smile and reached out to pat Virgil.

  “Miss West, we’ve been expecting you and your husband,” he said. “And the little guy, too, of course.”

  “Hi, Fred.” Hannah returned the smile. “How are Nancy and the kids?”

  “Doing great, thanks. Kids are all in school this year and Nancy is working part-time in the Palace gift shop. She loves it. Got a real talent for selling fancy watches to the high rollers.” Fred gave Elias an assessing look. “Congratulations on your marriage, by the way.”

  Hannah flushed a bright pink. Elias wondered if she was going to try to explain the hasty wedding. For some reason he got irritated every time she alluded to the temporary nature of their relationship.

  “Thank you,” Hannah said. She paused, looking somewhat bewildered about what she was supposed to say next. “This is him. My husband, Elias Coppersmith.”

  “Figured as much.” Fred chuckled. “Welcome to the Amber Palace, Mr. Coppersmith, and congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” Elias said.

  He offered his hand. Fred shook it with genuine enthusiasm.

  “Mr. Smith is looking forward to meeting you,” Fred said. “Carl will escort you and Miss West to the penthouse.”

  A bulked-up guard who also radiated a retired ghost hunter vibe emerged from another office.

  “Hey, Miss West,” he said. “Nice to see you. Heard you were married. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Carl,” Hannah said.

  Elias offered his hand again. “I’m the husband.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Coppersmith. I recognized you from your photo ID. I’m the one who conducted the background check on you.”

  “Is that so?” Elias glanced at Hannah and then turned back to Carl. “Did you run that check today after Mr. Smith invited us for drinks?”

  “Nah. Mr. Smith ordered up a check as soon as he saw the news of your marriage in the Curtain. Hannah’s a local, after all. We look after our own. Come with me, both of you. I’ll take you upstairs.”

  He led them into a small foyer. The plush carpet was a deep red. The walls were mirrored and the elevator was trimmed in amber and gold. Carl punched in a code. The doors opened in near silence.

  Hannah chatted with Carl on the short trip to the top floor. Elias realized he was starting to feel like extra baggage. He knew he wasn’t the most scintillating conversationalist in the world but he wasn’t a doorstop, either.

  Damn. Married less than a week and he was already wondering if they should get counseling.

  The elevator glided to a gentle stop and the doors whispered open, revealing another amber-and-mirrored foyer. A tall fortysomething woman dressed in a formal black suit and a cri
sp white, immaculately tailored shirt stood waiting to receive them. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She had the elegant bone structure, the long legs, and the gravity-defying breasts of a former showgirl.

  “Welcome, Miss West. Congratulations on your marriage.”

  “Thanks, Perkins, but, really, it’s just an MC.”

  “Nevertheless, it’s a marriage and, if I’m not mistaken, your first.” Perkins looked at Elias. “You must be Mr. Coppersmith.”

  “That’s right,” Elias said without inflection. “I’m the husband.”

  Hannah blushed again and rushed into an apology. “Sorry. I keep forgetting to introduce him.”

  “Don’t worry,” Elias said. “I’m getting used to it.”

  Hannah looked at Perkins. “Our situation is sort of complicated.”

  “Marriage is always complicated,” Perkins said serenely.

  Virgil chortled at her. She smiled and gave him an affectionate pat. “Good evening, Virgil. I have a special treat for you tonight. If the three of you will follow me, I’ll escort you out to the terrace where Mr. Smith is waiting.”

  Perkins turned gracefully on her stiletto heels and led the way through another glittering room littered with white leather sofas and draped with swaths of tasseled amber-gold cloth.

  The wall of windowed doors at the far end of the room stood open to the warm desert night and a lush, softly lit rooftop garden. A pool ringed with statues glowed with underwater lighting.

  A small, round elf of a man waited on the terrace. He wore white trousers and a loose-fitting white shirt stitched with crystal beads. The wide collar of the crisp white shirt was unfastened at the throat. A white silk scarf and white shoes completed the outfit. His eyes sparkled with pleasure at the sight of Hannah.

  “Welcome, my dear,” he said. “Many, many congratulations to you.”

  He opened his arms in a paternal way.

  Hannah put Virgil down and did a quick air-kiss hug with the casino magnate. Virgil chortled and bustled off in the general direction of the pool.

  “Thanks,” Hannah said, stepping back. “But it’s just an MC.”

  Smith raised silver brows and gave Elias a speculative look. “Indeed?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll explain,” Hannah said. Belatedly she waved a hand at Elias. “This is Elias Coppersmith.”

  “The husband,” Elias said. He smiled politely. “She sometimes forgets that part.”

  Smith chuckled. “Give her time. She’s still a newlywed.”

  “People keep telling me that,” Elias said.

  Smith extended a soft, manicured hand. He wore a ring set with blue amber. Elias was not surprised to discover that there was a lot of power in the elf’s grip—power of the paranormal variety. He glanced at the gently sparking blue amber and acknowledged the silent message with a small respectful nod—he was, after all, the younger man and he was on the older male’s turf. But he also sent a whisper of energy through his own ring. Smith’s eyes narrowed faintly. Then he smiled, as though satisfied.

  “Welcome to my home, Elias,” he said.

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Men.”

  Smith turned to her. “You must forgive us, my dear. We have our ways.”

  “Is that what you call it?” She watched him with knowing eyes. “Looked more like two male specter-cats sizing each other up.”

  “There is a bit of that in our primitive little rituals,” Smith said. “But for what it’s worth, I think you chose well, my dear.”

  Hannah looked startled. She opened her mouth to respond and somehow Elias just knew he didn’t want to hear another explanation about the status of their marriage.

  He spoke first. “Nice place you’ve got here, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Smith said. “I enjoy it.”

  His tone was one of polite modesty, as if they were not standing on top of the gambling and entertainment empire he had built. He did not have to boast, Elias thought. It was a given that no one achieved Smith’s level of success without a lot of powerful talent and the ruthless edge required to use that talent in whatever manner best served his objectives.

  “I have taken the liberty of ordering some champagne to celebrate your nuptials,” Smith said. “I trust you both will join me?”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said. “To tell you the truth, I could use a drink. Things have gotten very weird, Mr. Smith—and I’m not talking about my Marriage of Convenience.”

  “Yes, Clara and Bernice mentioned the problem. I, too, am quite concerned. Can’t have out-of-town gangs thinking they can harass the local citizenry. We take public safety very seriously.”

  Smith nodded at Perkins, who stood waiting beside a silver tray. There was a bottle of champagne and three glasses on the tray. At Smith’s signal she went to work opening the bottle.

  Elias walked to the waist-high glass brick barrier that surrounded the garden and looked out over Illusion Town. Down below he could see the towering new roller coaster that was being constructed on the grounds of the Amber Palace. According to the sign in front, it was called Alien Storm. It was set to open in a few weeks. Hannah had mentioned that tickets for the first few months had been sold out for ages.

  Just one more over-the-top attraction in a town that routinely reinvented the definition of “over-the-top.”

  The Alien towers at the heart of Illusion Town were enclosed by a great wall constructed in the shape of an octagon. But unlike the walls of the other Dead Cities, the eight-sided barrier was not intact. There were countless ragged holes, narrow fissures and cracks in the green quartz. Several of the ethereal towers had collapsed into rubble. With his senses only slightly heightened, Elias could see paranormal hot spots scattered around the grounds of the ancient city.

  Long ago something had happened here in the desert, something so catastrophic in nature that it had torn open the nearly indestructible quartz walls of the ancient city and left the surrounding landscape much hotter than most of the other aboveground ruins. Even from his lofty vantage point, Elias was aware of the strong currents of energy that shivered in the atmosphere. The paranormal heat within the broken walls of the octagon was as intense as that of the catacombs and the Rainforest and in some places, even hotter.

  The eight zones radiated out from the eight ancient walls. The gaudy lights of the grand casinos in the Amber, Emerald, and Sapphire Zones glittered like hot jewels in the night.

  Most of the other zones were steeped in moonlight and the green shadows of the ruins. But two glowed with a peculiar paranormal radiance—the Storm Zone and the Fire Zone. According to Hannah, the psi in both zones was so intense that even the homeless avoided it.

  He turned away from the view and rejoined the others. They settled into white leather chairs while Perkins offered canapés and glasses of champagne. There was also a bowl of pretzels for Virgil, who rushed out of some nearby shrubbery to accept the treat. He thanked Perkins by going into full cute mode. Perkins was charmed.

  With the champagne served, Perkins disappeared into the penthouse. Smith leaned back, hitched up his white slacks with a practiced twitch of his fingers, and crossed his legs.

  Virgil, having made short work of the pretzels, bounded off to explore the gardens.

  “After I got your aunts’ phone call this morning, I consulted with Detective Jensen of the Illusion Town Police Department,” Smith said. “I also took steps to inform the other members of the Illusion Club. I can assure you there is considerable concern all around. Action is being taken as we speak to find out as much as possible about the gang that attacked you.”

  “Good to know,” Elias said.

  “Unfortunately, by the time the local police got to the location of the ambush, the assailants had disappeared,” Smith continued. “Detective Jensen would very much like to get his hands on one of the Soldiers of Fortune so that he could
conduct a proper interrogation.”

  “Why is everyone so sure those bikers are from out of town?” Elias asked.

  “Illusion is not without its criminal element,” Smith said. “No city can claim to be crime-free. But generally speaking, our local police are well acquainted with the troublemakers in our midst and do a good job of keeping an eye on them. After speaking with my colleagues and making a few inquiries, I can assure you that the gang you describe was not local in origin.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Hannah said. “But where does that leave us?”

  “I’m still pursuing answers to your question, my dear,” Smith said. “But I have a few of my own for your husband.”

  Elias had been about to eat a canapé. He paused. “Yes, sir?”

  “I understand that your family’s company recently had some trouble with a rather shadowy organization called Vortex.”

  “I’m impressed,” Elias said. “Your connections are excellent.”

  “Thank you,” Smith said. “My question is, do you think there’s some link between what happened at the project Coppersmith is pursuing on Rainshadow and what happened here?”

  “Believe me, I’ve given that a lot of consideration,” Elias said. “And I’m almost certain the answer is no. Coppersmith Security and the FBPI are still mopping up that other situation so it’s possible that something might pop up that links to our problem but I doubt it.”

  Smith’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you so certain?”

  “It comes down to the quality of the hired muscle involved in each case. The bikers who came after us were armed but they appeared to be old-school biker-gang types. The Vortex crowd fielded a much more sophisticated crowd. Gear, transport, outfits—it all had the feel of a well-run, tightly disciplined organization. If there is a connection, Vortex is keeping its affiliation at a very long distance.”

  Smith nodded. “I understand your logic. As I said, my people will continue to investigate from this end. I will keep you informed of any developments. In the meantime, our good friend Ollie and the police assure me that security has been reinforced in the Dark Zone.”