thesun will go out and all life on earth will end. Won't that be nice andpeaceful?"
"I'm looking forward to it," Boyd said.
"I'm not," Barbara said. "But I've got to get some sleep tonight, ifI'm going to be any good at all tomorrow."
_You're pretty good right now_, Malone thought, but he didn't say aword. He felt the Queen's eye on him but didn't turn around. Afterall, she was on his side--wasn't she?
At any rate, she didn't say anything.
"Perhaps it would be best," Barbara said, "if you and I--YourMajesty--just went home and rested up. Some other time, then, whenthere's nothing vital to do, we could--"
"No," the Queen said. "We couldn't. Really, Lady Barbara, how oftenwill I have to remind you of the duties you owe your sovereign--notthe least of which is obedience, as dear old Ben used to say."
"Ben?" Malone said, and immediately wished he hadn't.
"Johnson, dear boy," the Queen said. "Really a remarkable man--andsuch a good friend to poor Will. Why, did you ever hear the story ofhow he actually paid Will's rent in London once upon a time? That waswhile Will and that Anne of his were having one of their arguments, ofcourse. I didn't tell you that story, did I?"
"No," Malone said truthfully, but his voice was full of foreboding."If I might remind Your Majesty of the subject," he added tentatively,"I should like to say--"
"Remind me of the subject!" the Queen said, obviously delighted. "Whata lovely pun! And how much better because purely unconscious! My, my,Sir Kenneth, I never suspected you of a pointed sense of humor--couldyou be a descendant of Sir Richard Greene, I wonder?"
"I doubt it," Malone said. "My ancestors were all poor but Irish." Hepaused. "Or, if you prefer, Irish, but poor." Another pause, and thenhe added: "If that means anything at all. Which I doubt."
"In any case," the Queen said, her eyes twinkling, "you were about toenter a new objection to our little visit to the Palace, were younot?"
Malone admitted as much. "I really think that--"
Her eyes grew suddenly cold. "If I hear any more objections, SirKenneth, I shall not only rescind your knighthood and--when I regainmy rightful kingdom--deny you your dukedom, but I shall refuse tocooperate any further in the business of Project Isle."
Malone turned cold. His face, he knew without glancing in the mirror,was white and pale. He thought of what Burris would do to him if hedidn't follow through on his assigned job.
Even if he wasn't as good as Burris thought he was, he really likedbeing an FBI agent. He didn't want to be fired.
And Burris had said: _"Give her anything she wants."_
He gulped and tried to make his face look normal. "All right," hesaid. "Fine. We'll go to the Palace."
He tried to ignore the pall of apprehension that fell over the car.
6
The management of the Golden Palace had been in business for manylong, dreary, profitable years, and each member of the staff thoughthe or she had seen just about everything there was to be seen. Andthose that were new felt an obligation to _look_ as if they'd seeneverything.
Therefore, when the entourage of Queen Elizabeth I strolled into themain salon, not a single eye was batted. Not a single gasp was heard.
Nevertheless, the staff kept a discreet eye on the crew. Drunks, richmen or Arabian millionaires were all familiar. But a group out of theSixteenth Century was something else again.
Malone almost strutted, conscious of the sidelong glances the groupwas drawing. But it was obvious that Sir Thomas was the majorattraction. Even if you could accept the idea of people in strangecostumes, the sight of a living, breathing absolute duplicate of KingHenry VIII was a little too much to take. It has been reported thattwo ladies named Jane, and one named Catherine, came down with suddenheadaches and left the salon within five minutes of the group'sarrival.
Malone felt he knew, however, why he wasn't drawing his full share ofattention. He felt a little out of place.
The costume was one thing, and, to tell the truth, he was beginning toenjoy it. Even with the weight of the stuff, it was going to be awrench to go back to single-breasted suits and plain white shirts. Buthe did feel that he should have been carrying a sword.
Instead, he had a .44 Magnum Colt snuggled beneath his left armpit.
Somehow, a .44 Magnum Colt didn't seem as romantic as a sword. Malonepictured himself saying: "Take that, varlet." Was varlet what youcalled them, he wondered. Maybe it was valet.
"Take that, valet," he muttered. No, that sounded even worse. Oh,well, he could look it up later.
The truth was that he had been born in the wrong century. He couldimagine himself at the Mermaid Tavern, hob-nobbing with Shakespeareand all the rest of them. He wondered if Richard Greene would bethere. Then he wondered who Richard Greene was.
Behind Sir Kenneth, Sir Thomas Boyd strode, looking majestic, as if hewere about to fling purses of gold to the citizenry. As a matter offact, Malone thought, he was. They all were.
Purses of good old United States of America gold.
Behind Sir Thomas came Queen Elizabeth and her Lady-in-Waiting, LadyBarbara Wilson. They made a beautiful foursome.
"The roulette table," Her Majesty said with dignity. "Precede me."
They pushed their way through the crowd. Most of the customers wereeither excited enough, drunk enough, or both to see nothing in theleast incongruous about a Royal Family of the Tudors invading theGolden Palace. Very few of them, as a matter of fact, seemed to noticethe group.
They were roulette players. They noticed nothing but the table and thewheel. Malone wondered what they were thinking about, decided to askQueen Elizabeth, and then decided against it. He felt it would makehim nervous to know.
Her Majesty took a handful of chips.
The handful was worth, Malone knew, exactly five thousand dollars.That, he'd thought, ought to last them an evening, even in the GoldenPalace. In the center of the strip, inside the city limits of LasVegas itself, the five thousand would have lasted much longer--but HerMajesty wanted the Palace, and the Palace it was.
Malone began to smile. Since he couldn't avoid the evening, he wasdetermined to enjoy it. It was sort of fun, in its way, indulging asweet harmless old lady. And there was nothing they could do until thenext morning, anyhow.
His indulgent smile faded very suddenly.
Her Majesty plunked the entire handful of chips--_five thousanddollars!_ Malone thought dazedly--onto the table. "Five thousand," shesaid in clear, cool measured tones, "on number one."
The croupier blinked only slightly. He bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty," hesaid.
Malone was briefly thankful, in the midst of his black horror, that hehad called the management and told them that the Queen's plays werebacked by the United States Government. Her Majesty was going to getunlimited credit--and a good deal of awed and somewhat puzzledrespect.
Malone watched the spin begin with mixed feelings. There was fivethousand dollars riding on the little ball. But, after all, HerMajesty was a telepath. Did that mean anything?
He hadn't decided by the time the wheel stopped, and by then he didn'thave to decide.
"Thirty-four," the croupier said tonelessly. "Red, Even and High."
He raked in the chips with a nonchalant air.
Malone felt as if he had swallowed his stomach. Boyd and Lady Barbara,standing nearby, had absolutely no expressions on their faces. Maloneneeded no telepath to tell him what they were thinking.
They were exactly the same as he was. They were incapable of thought.
But Her Majesty never batted an eyelash. "Come, Sir Kenneth," shesaid. "Let's go on to the poker tables."
She swept out. Her entourage followed her, shambling a little, andblank-eyed. Malone was still thinking about the five thousand dollars.Oh, well, Burris had said to give the lady anything she wanted. _Butmy God!_ he thought. _Did she have to play for royal stakes?_
"I am, after all, a Queen," she whispered back to him.
Malone thought abo
ut the National Debt. He wondered if a million moreor less would make any real difference. There would be questions askedin committees about it. He tried to imagine himself explaining theevening to a group of Congressmen. "Well, you see, gentlemen, therewas this roulette wheel--"
He gave it up.
Then he wondered how much hotter the water was going to get, and hestopped thinking altogether in self-defense.
In the next room, there were scattered tables. At one, a poker gamewas in full swing. Only five were playing; one, by his white-tie-and-tails uniform, was easily recognizable as a house dealer. The otherfour were all men, one of them in full cowboy regalia. The Tudorsdescended upon them with great suddenness, and the house