“Hmmm, it’s not very awe-inspiring is it, Graham?” From the exit of the forecourt Arcane looked out. Somehow, Graham couldn’t see the Doctor wanting to sit in a crowded McDonalds, surrounded by squawking brats, in the middle of Circus Circus.
“There’s, er, there’s The Sahara?” Graham suggested, looking to their right, way past the derelict ruins of El Rancho beside them.
“Bit of a walk though, and I certainly don’t want to see another taxi before tomorrow!”
“Circus Circus??” Graham suggested helpfully. Arcane just turned to him with a look that positively shouted that any sort of answer to that was beneath him.
“Looks like it’s going to have to be The Riviera then,” Arcane glanced to his left, past a row of shops and a wedding chapel, to the next hotel, which was considerably nearer than the others. “Bound to be something there, I suppose.” Graham nodded, and they both set off.

As they got to the road directly before the hotel, and waited for the lights to change for them, Arcane glanced to his left, paused, then stepped back away from the lights with a look of surprise on his face.

“Doctor Arcane? Is, er, something wrong?”
“Yes, Graham, I think there bloody well is something wrong!” Graham shuddered inwardly as he saw that air of temper building up in Arcane’s whole demeanour. “Graham, would you do me the service of looking to our left and telling me what you see?”
Graham complied.
“er, a road --” he looked up at the sign above the lights; “-- ‘Riviera Boulevard’... a board advertising The Riviera... and a...”
“No, you idiot! Further than that!” Arcane pointed, “There... in the distance!”
“erm, The Hilton, Sir?”
“Very good, Graham. The Hilton... and not the pink one with the flamingos that we passed on the way here in that horrid taxi. In fact, I’d say it’s The Hilton we’ve just come from, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Graham felt it was in his best interests just to answer a simple ‘yes’ to everything he was asked from now on.
“Now, Graham, I have to admit that my knowledge of the geography of Las Vegas is not as sharp as it might be, but I can’t help wondering why, when The Hilton is directly behind us, away from the bulk of the traffic, and less than half a mile away, we spent FORTY FIVE SODDING MINUTES IN A BLOODY TAXI TRAVELLING TWO MILES DOWN THE STRIP FROM THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION!!!
“Perhaps... er, they, well, had some sort of roadworks... or maybe the roads were kind of closed for an... an accident??” Somehow, Graham didn’t feel that simply saying ‘yes’ was going to be satisfactory under these circumstances.
“Graham!? Do you see any roadworks??”
“erm, no, Sir.”
“Do you see the telltale signs of police or paramedics that might accompany an accident!?” Graham shook his head, closing his eyes.
“Maybe the driver thought he was, well, doing you a favour, by, er showing you the sights?? That volcano was kind of, well, impressive. It’s a..a.. tourist place. Maybe that’s what they do here?” Graham closed his eyes again and waited for the berating he was going to receive for that glib comment. It never came.

“Of course!” Arcane exclaimed. Graham opened his eyes and stared.
He bought it!?!? “er, you think that’s what happened, Sir?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Graham, but I’ll bet that taxi driver thought he was supposed to.”
“Wha... what do you mean, Doctor?”
“Well, I’d have thought that was obvious to even a low grade imbecile, Graham! Who made the arrangements with the driver?” Graham sighed in understanding. “That bloody woman!!!” Arcane fumed. “She did it deliberately!”
“Maybe she, er, wanted you to have a tour to, er, make up for the... problems?? She didn’t, like, know you were in a hurry or.. or anything...?” His voice trailed off before it did any further damage.
“I’ll bloody get ‘er, Graham. See if I don’t. I’ll teach that bloody woman that *nobody* messes with Anton Arcane and lives to tell the tale! No... Death’s too good for her. By the time I’ve finished with that dreadful woman, she’ll wish she was dead!! Mark my words, Graham!”
“Absolutely, Doctor Arcane!” Graham enthused, deciding that confident agreement would make the Doctor less likely to dump his anger on him, and more likely to gee him into a positive frame of mind. Damn! Graham cursed to himself. It had taken hours, but Arcane had finally worked himself back into a pleasant mood again, and then this came along. “You’ll show her, Sir. Bloody woman won’t get away with it, eh, Doctor!” he beamed at Arcane, who seemed to relax a little.
“Yes, Graham, we’ll get her, won’t we old chap!?” Arcane put his arm round Graham and developed a dreamy little look, his mood swinging through 180 degrees as the myriad possibilities of revenge flitted through his mind. Graham breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted! He mused... Until the next one!
“Well, let’s go and eat then!” Arcane said cheerfully, as the traffic lights ahead changed in their favour.


It was an hour later before Arcane and Graham finally got seated. The hotel was packed to capacity, and the queue to Cady’s coffee shop was not only stretching back out into the casinos, but almost to the exit doors, not that Arcane wanted to go there anyway. Something a little more select and secluded was what he had in mind. They tried Kristofer’s next, but that was fully booked up, as were all the other restaurants for the next few hours. However, with the skilful use of his wallet on a less than scrupulous restaurant manager, Arcane managed to secure them a table at the Ristorante Italiano.

“It had better be worth it all, Graham! It’s costing me a sodding fortune in bribes... and we’ve still got the Hilton to deal with!” Arcane muttered. Graham didn’t pay too much attention. It wasn’t as though his employer was going to miss what was really small change to him. Arcane was merely complaining on principal. Nothing new there then!
“So, Graham, feel up to eating anything then?” Arcane asked with mild interest, reaching for a menu and opening it for perusal.
“I.. I’ll try, Sir. I think so.”
“Either you are or you aren’t, man! I don’t want you out of action tomorrow. I need you fit and active. I’m relying on you, Graham!”
“I’ll be fine, Doctor,” Graham decided, albeit reticently, “I won’t let you down, Sir.”
“Good man!” Arcane voiced his approval as he selected his dish and waited for someone to come and serve them.

“Good evening, Sirs,” A waiter eventually approached their table, and began pouring them a glass of water each. “Are you ready to order now, or would you like a little longer?”
Arcane didn’t look like a man who wanted to wait a second longer; “Let’s see, I’ll start with a prawn cocktail, and then... hmmm, yes, I think the Viaello a la crema, on a bed of penne, with vegetables du jour. Graham?”
“Oh, er... I’ll have that,” he pointed to the tagliatelli carbonara. It seemed the most gentle option on the menu where his digestive tolerance was concerned.
“Would you care for a starter, Sir?” The waiter enquired. Graham shook his head, preferring not to push his luck.
“Anything to drink, Sirs?”
“Yes, hot tea... Darjeeling,” Arcane replied.
“erm, just some coffee, thanks,” Graham said meekly.
“Certainly,” the waiter retrieved the menus and left.
“Right, Graham, time to get the battle-plan worked out, eh?” Arcane rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Now, we’ll get to the hotel early tomorrow. It’s damned bad luck we’ll have to waste time checking in and getting things sorted out. I was hoping we’d be ready to go good and early, but we can still manage it no problem. We can grab some breakfast in that restaurant back at The Algiers. Not exactly haute cuisine, but it’ll make things quicker and easier, and it’s only for one morning. Now, when we’re ready, I’ll deal with finding out where our targets are exactly. Once that’s done, that’s where you come in. I’ll be down in the conference rooms, mingling with those idiots and keeping them distracted. While I’m doing that, you’ll be upstairs, searching their rooms. We’ve both got our celphones. I’ll keep you informed on who’s down there with me, so you know you won’t be disturbed. You keep me informed at all times as to who’s room you’re actually in, and every time you leave and enter another. Got that?”
“Uh huh,” Graham nodded.
“Good! Now if any of them leave, I’ll contact you to get out of the room. You’ll have plenty time. It’s a good bet that the ones giving their talks early will have their research notes with them. Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you know which ones to target, and when. Search the rooms thoroughly, Graham! Sneaky buggers are bound to try and hide the goodies if they can. Now ideally, we want to get as many done on the Saturday as possible. I’d prefer to get this business out of the way so I can relax more for the Sunday when I give my lecture. Of course, there’s probably going to be some to do on the Sunday... the late Saturday lectures might not put the research back until then. ‘Course, it might be possible for you to do that later on at night, if they’re still downstairs. We’ll....” his voice trailed off into innocent silence as the waiter returned to the table, bringing his starter. Arcane waited for him to leave before continuing. “There’s a chance they might leave their research with hotel security. I’ll deal with that if it comes to it, but I seriously doubt they’d trust all that lucrative information to the tender mercies of a hotel clerk. No, can’t see that happening, can you, Graham?”
“No, Sir,” Graham agreed, as Arcane began on his starter. Graham tried very hard to avoid looking at it. He disliked seafood at the best of times, and there was something disquieting about those ghastly prawns that seemed to be staring at him with black, lifeless eyes. If he stared at them much longer, the nausea was going to come back with a vengeance. He took a sip of water and averted his eyes a little. “Dr. Arcane?” he asked.
“Yes, Graham?” Arcane mumbled, helping himself to another prawn.
“How do you want me to deal with, like, actually getting into the rooms?”

There was a pause, as Arcane swallowed the remains of the crustacean, “Depends on how the key system works, Graham. We’ve really got three options. If we’re lucky, they’ll operate with keycards, in which case we’re home and laughing. I’ve come up with a little device that’ll take care of that no problem.”
“It sounds good, Doctor.”
“Good!?... it’s brilliant!! All we have to do is use one of our own keycards. We use my device to scan the target lock, then run our card through it. It’ll instantly change the coding on it to fit the new lock. Repeat that for every door... including our own again, and we’ve got a one-card-fits-all!” He gave a little chuckle, helping himself to another prawn.
“That’s amazing, Doctor.”
“That’s nothing for my genius, Graham,” Arcane said, with customary lack of modesty.
“Absolutely, Sir...er, Doctor Arcane? What if they don’t use keycards and they’ve got standard locks?”
“Good point, Graham. Well, in that case we’ll have to use options two or three, won’t we?... preferably two...”
“...Which is?”
“Which is basically you using your lock-picking skills! They’re only hotel doors, Graham. You should be able to handle it.”
“And if... if I, well, can’t?”
Arcane sighed, “Option three... which I’d really rather you tried to avoid if at all possible. It’s already getting damned costly as it is!”
“What’s option three, Sir?”
“I give you my bloody wallet and you obtain a pass key from the cleaning staff. The management may be taking the financial moral high ground, but I doubt that their sorely underpaid lackeys will feel the same with sufficient incentive passed their way. Try to avoid it if at all possible though, Graham. The less people who know you’ve been in there, the better! Oh, and if you do have to, *try* to spin some convincing yarn about a legitimate reason for wanting to go in! Telling them you’re a thief isn’t exactly going to...” his voice trailed off again as the waiter approached with a silver tray, and deposited two cups, and various beverages on the tables. He removed Arcane’s finished starter.

“Was it to your satisfaction, Sir?” he said in a polite tone of voice.
“Yes, splendid, thank you!” Arcane replied cheerfully. The waiter left again.
“Doctor? What if they complain about the thefts early, and, well... er, they suspect you, or start random room checks anyway?” Arcane rolled his eyes in sheer frustration again.
“Graham! You’re not going to steal anything! Well you are, but you’re not going to be removing it! What you are going to be doing is making copies of anything you find. Get it all on disk, or digitise it. The only way they’re going to suspect anything is if you make a mess or put things back wrongly... and you’re not going to do that, are you, Graham!?” he said with veiled menace, giving his assistant a slight glare. Graham just shook his head vigorously.

Just then, the waiter arrived carrying a large platter, which he placed down beside them on a stand, before handing each of them their individual plates, along with the small, accompanying side dishes.
“Enjoy your meals, Sirs,” he smiled, leaving them.
“Well! That looks jolly nice!” Arcane smiled, pouring himself a cup of tea and taking up his knife and fork with relish. Graham just took his fork and began picking at the meal slowly. “Eat up, Graham!...” Arcane geed his assistant on with a smile, which changed swiftly into a sardonic frown; “... it’s costing me enough!”

“What about *your* research, Doctor?” Graham asked, taking a mouthful of pasta; “What if one of the others gets your idea and breaks into your room?”
“Again, a good point, and one that hadn’t escaped me. The fossils will have to stay in my room, hidden, of course. There’s nothing for anybody to copy, and there’s no reason for them to be stolen. With the facilities available in a hotel, they’re meaningless without the knowledge behind them, and the actual research notes, which I’ll keep with me at all times. As to Vermimorphus... well, they’ll definitely have to remain with me. Not much choice in the matter really. You’ll be too far too busy to look after them properly, won’t you, Graham?” The question was rhetorical, “So, any questions?”
Graham shook his head. “I can handle it, Sir.”
“Well of course you can, Graham. I didn’t bring you here to admire the scenery now, did I!?... Mmmm... and speaking of which, that looks jolly nice! Yes... very tasty!” Suddenly distracted, Arcane’s eyes lit up as he glanced over at something to his right, smiling broadly. Graham followed his gaze and wasn’t sure if the Doctor was looking at a huge chocolate cheesecake on the sweet trolley, or the back of a tall, scantily clad blonde keno runner bending over a little as she handed some winnings to a man on another table, her micro-skirt riding up ever so slightly over her taut buttocks; “Yes... I could rather fancy some of *that* afterwards!” Graham still hadn’t the faintest idea which he was referring to, but considering the sleeping arrangements for the night, he was desperately hoping it was the cheesecake!


“I’ve brought you some cheesecake back, Will,” Tressa said cheerfully, stuffing a large napkin full of cake into his hand.
“Nice to see I wasn’t totally forgotten,” he whispered to himself. “How’d it go? Good evening?”
“Yes... yeah, it was a good evening,” she smiled wistfully.
“Is that supposed to convince me?” he quipped.
She gave a little smile; “No.. er, that is, I mean it was a good evening. Maybe I just wish they hadn’t tried so hard. I know they mean well, but... well, it was like they were treading on glass in my presence. Never mentioning anything connected with...” her words trailed off into silence for a moment, before she shook herself out of it and smiled to herself. “It was a nice evening, Will, yes. Joshua’s looking forward to you going fishing with him and his father.”
“That’s, er great. Well, just as long as the little rugrat isn’t expecting a partner to play blackbeard from now on!”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’d be perfect!” she grinned evilly. “So, you going to help me put up the tree and the decorations tomorrow?”
“Try stopping me,” he smiled back.
“Look, I’m sorry I got back so late. I tried to be here an hour ago, but you know how...”
“... Hey, no need to apologise. Just enjoy yourself. It’s been pretty cool here for the evening. Lots to do,” he shrugged amiably
“Want a coffee?”
“Nah, best get back to town. Getting kind of late.” He made a move towards the door.
“Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly
“Hey, I already told you. No problem. I’ve had a great time. Like I said, lots to do.”
“Here?... Such as??”
“Oh, catching up on some badly needed rest... a bit of TV, feeding the gators... talking to the plants...” He shrugged, on his way out.
“You want to watch that. It’s the first sign of madness!” she called back to him jovially.
She caught his reply as it faded into the distance;
“Nah, talking to ‘em’s cool. Problems only *really* begin when they start talkin’ back!”


“Well, Graham, nearly 10 o’clock. Not exactly late, but we’re best getting an early night before tomorrow, eh?” Arcane commented, removing his left hand from his pocket to look at his Rolex as he and Graham exited The Riviera.
“Yes, Sir,” Graham agreed. He was feeling pretty drained, and certainly didn’t fancy pushing his way through more of these crowds for a moment longer than necessary. If God had meant me to be in crowds like this, Dr. Arcane would have mutated me into a sardine! His mind grumbled to itself.
“Well, let’s get back to our hovel for the night then!” Arcane exclaimed, turning right and setting off at a casual pace. Graham hoisted the bag higher onto his shoulder, wincing under the weight again, and followed.
Yes, Master... just change my name to Igor, won’t you? “Coming, Sir!”


“Makes a nice change, doesn’t it, Graham?” Arcane mused, as the assistant struggled to catch up.
“Wh.. what does, Sir?”
“Here! This place. Not that I’d want to live in a city like this, but it’s definitely an improvement on the quiet dreariness of Houma.”
“I... I think I’d kinda like it more if it wasn’t so busy,” Graham replied.
“Very true. Not the best time of the year for this place... or any other place for that matter!” More than a hint of bitterness entered Arcane’s voice.
“er, you don’t like Christmas, Sir?” Graham was curious.
“No, Graham. I certainly don’t like Christmas! All that false cheer... those miserable family gatherings that would always end up with my mother and father at each other’s throats... “Be good, Anton, or there’ll be no Christmas dinner for you”... “Do all your studies correctly or it’s no presents for you this year” --” Graham instantly regretted ever asking the question as he saw Arcane’s face become a mask of bitterness and loathing; “-- and of course, it didn’t matter how good I was, or how well I did, it was never bloody good enough for them!!...Oh no, no good indeed! Graham, do you have any idea what it’s like to listen to all the other children talking about what they got... and when they ask you, you have to lie because you don’t want to tell them that *your* parents burned all your damned presents because you got one figure wrong in that quadratic equation at six years old... or you were 2 seconds late in coming when you were called!? Do you!!?”
Please earth! Swallow me up right now! “erm, no, Doctor.”
“No. Well of course you don’t. Nobody does, do they? -- You know, the only Christmas presents I’ve ever had since I was 5 years old were from my sweet Tatania! -- Oh, and then there were the party games they liked to play... *those* party games!” Arcane closed his eyes briefly and went silent, shuddering ever so slightly.
Memo to self, Graham. *Never* ask him to reminisce on Christmas again... and I guess birthdays are probably a no-no as well!

“I.. I’m sorry, Doctor... but you’re going to make up for it this year,” Graham said, trying to muster enthusiasm to break Arcane’s mood.
“Huh?” Arcane seemed distant.
“The conference... er, Vermimorphus. I..I’d say you were going to give yourself some *great* presents this year,” he grinned. Arcane regarded him for a few seconds, and Graham tensed, not knowing which way the scientist was going to turn.
“Yes, of course I am, Graham!” Arcane beamed, “We’ll show ‘em, won’t we?” he put his arm round the assistant’s shoulder, hugging him a little. Graham breathed a small sigh of relief and made another mental note, this one congratulating himself.

They continued the walk back to The Algiers, past the wedding chapel. Both Arcane and Graham looked on in stunned fascination as the latest couple trouped out of the matrimonial conveyor belt; a less than agile pair that had to be in their nineties at the very least!
“Makes you wonder if they’ll survive the honeymoon, doesn’t it, Graham?” Arcane mused, before stopping to look at something else to his right. Reaching into a glass newspaper booth in a row by the side of the road, Arcane withdrew a small brochure and began looking at it with mild interest.

“Free newspapers, Sir?” Graham asked meekly. With a sly grin, Arcane said nothing, but merely reached in and handed another to Graham, who’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he gazed at the contents. “Topless girls of glitter gulch??... Girls, hot and sexy to meet your every need!?!?... Call 1-800 732 - FUCK, for a good time!?!?”
“Well, Graham, we don’t see too many of these newspapers in Houma now, do we!? And with the local talent back home, can’t exactly see Tressa Kipp moonlighting for one of these!... Hmmm, now what do we have here?” he muttered wickedly, turning the page and glancing at the image of a woman, sprawled out on a bed, knees up, legs apart, and playing with herself, with only a small black rectangle covering her modesty, or lack thereof; “ ‘Playgirl seeking playboy!’ Well, Graham, do you think we should give the young lady a call?” Looking acutely embarrassed, Graham hurriedly put the magazine down and shook his head.
“Oh, Graham, you’re no fun at all!” Arcane sighed good naturedly.
“D..Don’t you think we kind