Bal-Simba nodded sagely.
The man extended his hand. "Peter Saperstein, of the Saperstein Group. You know, the Saperstein Technology Letter." Bal-Simba nodded again.
"So, who are you here for?"
Bal-Simba took the first name he could think of. "IBM."
"That’s not what it says on your badge," Saperstein shot back.
Bal-Simba realized he had blundered.
"You weren’t supposed to say that, were you?"
If there was one thing the big wizard knew it was when to keep his mouth shut. So he just smiled slightly at his new acquaintance.
"Look," Saperstein went on, "I know you can’t say anything, non-D and all that, but just let me lay a scenario on you."
"I cannot stop you."
"First off, it’s gotta be big if you’re here under a cover name." Saperstein thumped the big wizard on his chest where his badge was pinned. "Your badge doesn’t say IBM. But it does say ’wizard,’ so you’re obviously in software development and you sure as hell don’t work on the AS400 if you’re walking around dressed like that So you gotta be blue-sky and if you’re here, that means edutainment and that," Saperstein concluded triumphantly, "means a partnership arrangement with Mauve."
"That is a great deal of speculation," Bal-Simba said mildly. Anyone who knew him would have recognized the reproof in his voice, but Saperstein didn’t know him and wouldn’t have wanted to spoil a hot story even if he had.
Saperstein craned to look through a random rift in the crowd. "Excuse me, I gotta go talk to someone."
Bal-Simba nodded, not realizing he had not only made his acquaintance’s evening, but saved Mauve Technology as well.
": unique market position with the possibility for strong leverage of our technology through the channel," Jacobs was saying.
Jerry nodded and smiled. So far he’d managed to keep from revealing his ignorance, but it was getting harder. For one thing, since the band had quit playing he’d actually had to talk to Jacobs. For another, Jacobs was angling hard for some kind of commitment. Since Jerry still didn’t have the faintest idea what the company did he couldn’t agree to anything without giving himself away.
"Well," Jerry began, "you nave to understand our position vis-a-vis the market."
"Excuse me." Jerry found himself shouldered aside by a small middle-aged man in an expensive suit and cheap toupee. "Peter Saperstein, of the Saperstein Group. You know, the Saperstein Technology Letter?
What’s this about a joint game venture with IBM’s European division?"
"Where the hell did you hear that?" Jacobs demanded
Saperstein shrugged. "Around. So mere is something to it?"
"No. I mean, I can’t comment even if it was true."
"When are you going to make the announcement? Not at the show, is it? So that means sometime in the next quarter, right?"
"I can’t say."
"A little further out then."
"Uh," Jerry said, "if you gentlemen will excuse me:" But neither was paying any attention.
He was heaving a sigh of relief when someone touched his arm. It was the woman in the blue suit.
"I checked with the software people. They say Mr. Tajikawa isn’t here."
"Oh, well thanks anyway."
She smiled a thoroughly professional smile. "Don’t mention it. If there’s anything else I can do:" and with that she was lost in the crowd.
The band had struck up again and "Judy Garland" was back on the stage, flirting with Bal-Simba as he swung into his first number. Jerry collected his friend and they made for the door.
"Forgive me," Bal-Simba said when they were out in the corridor and could talk in normal tones again, "but is there something peculiar about that woman?"
"For starters, it’s a man."
"Ah," Bal-Simba said mildly, "I see," and seemed to lose interest. Jerry thought about trying to explain and then realized that to Bal-Simba a female impersonator was probably the least peculiar thing he seen had all day. Moira was waiting for them where they had left her. "Well?" she asked.
"No sign of him. We’re going to have to look elsewhere." He frowned. "This isn’t a real good strategy to find Taj anyway."
"What would you suggest then?"
Jerry had pulled out his exhibitor book and was thumbing through it in search of inspiration.
"Look, there are a couple of more companies on the hospitality suite list that Taj has a special relationship with. We can call them and see if they know where he is. It’ll take some calling around to track them down, but it will be faster than trying to hit all these exhibits."
He closed the book and looked up. "Meantime, we can’t stay here. Too public. Let’s get a few blocks away from the casinos and find a place where Moira can hole up and rest for a few hours while we hit a pay phone. It’s getting late enough for that."
"My Lady?" Bal-Simba asked.
The dragon nodded "Forgive me, My Lords, but this body is not as strong as it looks."
"We understand," Bal-Simba said gently.
"Yeah," Jerry added ’The last time I was here I would have collapsed if I’d done half as much walking as we have already."
"Then lead on," Bal-Simba said. Jerry picked a direction and led them off away from the maze of casinos and neon.
Just a few blocks from the downtown casino district the scene changed radically. From bright lights and constant bustle it became a run-down area of progressively cheaper motels and shabby buildings. The character of the people on the streets changed as well. In the next several blocks Bal-Simba’s appearance got them a number of interesting business propositions-both buying and selling.
Bal-Simba and Moira didn’t know enough to see it as unusual, but Jerry was getting progressively more nervous. At six feet three and well over two hundred pounds he was the least physically impressive member of the trio, but even so he did not like the looks of the neighborhood. "There’s a mini-mart down the block," he said finally. "It should have a pay phone."
A small sign informed them that the pay phones were inside.
"Wait here. I’ll see what we can find out." He paused and looked at Bal-Simba.
"No, you come with me. Moira, you wait here." The dragon settled down in a parking space and Jerry and Bal-Simba went into the mini-mart
In the event it took longer than Jerry had expected. The hotels were overworked and the switchboards were glacial. Even when he did find where the companies were staying, the phone would ring forever before someone answered it and it would take somewhat longer to find anyone who knew the Tajmanian Devil and could tell Jerry that he wasn’t there. Jerry kept pumping in quarters, but it was slow.