Serge and Lenny looked at each other, then at the ground, then back at each other, scratching their heads, looking off in the distance, across the concourse, where two men walked toward the exit with a silver briefcase.
Serge and Lenny looked at each other:
They jumped up and took off after the men, rounding the corner of the building and sprinting through the Rocket Garden, giant silver and white tubes towering skyward all around.
“That’s an Atlas. Had a sixty percent fail ratio before John Glenn climbed in. This is the suborbital Redstone that took up Shepard and Grissom…” — Serge breathing hard, not breaking stride — “…and the big one is the incredible Gemini Titan, an ICBM converted for human flight. Pulled some serious
They made it to the car and patched out. Serge grabbed the tracking device. “It’s working again! Must be because we’ve left the complex!”
Serge was driving now, pushing the Cadillac across the causeway, accelerating as they rounded A1A by Port Canaveral. “Take the wheel.”
“Man, I’m way too fucked up to drive, especially from the passenger side.”
But Serge had already let go and was pointing the tracking device out the side of the car. Lenny began steering with his left hand.
The tracking signal grew stronger. Serge aimed it at each passing building. “…There’s the Durango steak house, formerly the Mousetrap. Legendary astronaut hangout. If those walls could talk…. And there’s the Econo Lodge, which used to be the Cape Colony Inn owned by the Mercury Seven. There’s still a little commemorative sign out back by the oriental restaurant….”
“Who’s your favorite astronaut?” asked Lenny.
“I’d have to give the edge to Frank Borman or John Young. What about you?”
“Major Healy.”
“Ah yes, the master thespian from
“They did a lot of drugs back then,” said Lenny.
“That might explain the Sid and Marty Croft stuff, but this idea was brain-dead on arrival. I would have loved to have sat in on that pathetic pitch meeting. I mean, what the fuck were they
“I’d watch that show,” said Lenny.
“I’m in the wrong business.”
They passed the Orbit Motel. The tracking signal went nuts. Serge stomped the brake pedal with both feet, leaving a big cloud of dust and burned rubber as the convertible screeched to a halt in the middle of the road.
A Mazda honked and swerved around the Cadillac. “Asshole!” The driver gave them the finger but quickly retracted it when he saw Serge slamming an ammunition clip into the butt of a .45.
“Let’s hit it,” said Serge. They turned around and headed back toward the Orbit Motel.
17
There was trouble brewing elsewhere in the United States. Which could mean only one thing. It would eventually come to Florida.
This time, Nevada. The caked desert changed colors five times after sunset, from burnt orange all the way to an eerie purple. A horned lizard lay belly up on a rock and blinked.
A towering sign with a thousand colored bulbs came on, a man in a cowboy hat holding up a big gold nugget. Some of the bulbs flashed on and off, making the cowboy wave at cars.
The Gold Rush Hotel stood outside Reno. Way outside. Just desert and cactus and cattle skulls. It was out on the highway toward California, designed to catch the people coming in, who couldn’t wait to get to Reno, and those leaving, who hadn’t learned. There were slot machines at the reception desk, a slot machine in each booth of the restaurant, and long lines of clanging machines against the walls in the Sapphire Room.
The Sapphire Room held forty dark nightclub tables, each with its own tiny cocktail lamp. Two keyboards sat onstage, facing each other.
Rock groups are notoriously lax about protecting names and trademarks, which often revert to record companies. By the time the reunion tours roll around, all bets are off. If you’re lucky, you might see a band missing only the lead singer. If not, you get half of Chicago. If you’re really unlucky, you’ve paid to get in the Sapphire Room.
An emcee walked onstage with a microphone. Behind him, two men in tuxedos sat down at the opposing keyboards.
“May I have your attention? It is with great pleasure that I introduce Dave and Jeff on the Dueling Wurlitzers….” The pair began playing a rousing number. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Sapphire Room is proud to present Bad Company!”
