Carole Douglas - Silver Zombie

Tallgrass sat there with his black pupils lost in his most skeptical scout squint, but Ben pressed a button on his desktop intercom.

“Geraldine, send in the CinSims.” He winked at us. “We never had any of these in Kansas before. This is the jackpot, trust me. Fresh from the download.”

Mystified, Ric and I exchanged a glance. I deigned to drink some cheap whiskey neat. Ugh. Tepid, strong as rubbing alcohol, and throat-stinging. I’d never met a spirit that needed a cocktail recipe more.

Let’s see … we were at Emerald City. How about … an Old Scarecrow Old-fashioned?

Quicksilver’s claws scrambled as he rushed to his feet behind me.

I heard what sounded like a high-pitched crosscut saw belaboring a twig. Quick growled warning.

I turned to see a small creature with enough spiked hair to serve as a toupee for a male American Idol contestant dance down the middle of the painted yellow brick road into the office. I bent to pat the dog.

“Toto,” a light, worried voice called, “stay away from that witch!”

I straightened and jumped back just as a sextet of black-and-white CinSims trouped in, fresh from the film and the farm. I knew them instantly, even though they were bathed in a soft yellow light.

The original black-and-white film of the movie’s prologue was later “colored” to make it sepia-toned. That was a “fan fact” most people wouldn’t know. Only characters filmed on the silver nitrate of black-and-white film could be bonded with zombie bodies to create the signature Vegas Cinema Simulacrums, familiarly known as CinSims. So Ben’s Vegas CinSim-supplying bigwig was a vintage film expert. Who? Smelling more and more like Hector.

I must say my hackles rose to match Quicksilver’s. Was nothing sacred from exploitation, even the sepia-colored prologue to The Wizard of Oz ?

Dorothy Gale, with her earnest face and curled—not braided—pigtails, was still calling her little terrier, but frowning at someone behind me.

I turned, and nearly jumped out of my plaits and navy pumps to see the scowling Almira Gulch, as thin and mean as a barbed-wire hangman’s noose, chasing the agile little dog around my intervening body.

I bent to scoop up Toto, so the dog could “arf” and snap at the squinty-eyed woman’s face. Like my own Achilles, Toto was a spot-on judge of character.

Dorothy’s Auntie Em, sweet and worried, came up behind her niece, along with kindly Uncle Henry and the trio of fedora-hatted oddball farmworkers, Hunk, Hickory, and Zeke.

Oh, had the descriptive connotations of the word “hunk” changed since 1939. The prologue’s Hunk became the sweet-natured but weak-kneed Scarecrow searching for a brain in Oz. The carnival huckster who’d doubled as the wizard himself, Professor Marvel, brought up the rear.

“Look at them CinSims go!” Ben Hassard crowed. “I feel like the brave little tailor. ‘Eight at one blow.’”

I reluctantly handed a warm, soft, wriggling Toto back to Dorothy Gale, a bit unnerved. I’d never seriously touched a CinSim, and couldn’t believe they felt so … lifelike.

Ric and Tallgrass edged nearer to inspect the flock of CinSims while Almira Gulch kept a vindictive eye on Toto in Dorothy’s arms and Quicksilver shadowed her every move.

These CinSims reminded me of Ric’s Zobos, disoriented and not in touch with their surroundings, interacting only with themselves. They hadn’t had enough exposure to the paying public yet. The Vegas CinSims I knew were firmly themselves and adapted to their fates. These newly hatched celluloid “chicks” made me feel sorry for them … except for Almira Gulch.

I slipped back to Hassard’s side.

“Are you planning to build a special attraction around them, like the MGM Grand did before it dumped the Oz theme?”

“I don’t know what those Las Vegas hotels did. All I know is I got these very Kansas characters in exchange for one old movie just found in the restored Augusta film palace basement down the road.” He shook his head. “Vegas moguls. One night in the penthouse suite and he was all hot to deal. I do have some classy ‘amenities’ in that suite.” He winked. “And awomenities too.”

I stepped back, hoping Hassard wasn’t referring to imported party girls.

It was becoming clear who the visiting Vegas bigwig was, and the thought of Hector Nightwine cavorting with hired heartland hostesses was too ugly to bear.

I could see him parting with the Oz CinSims. They were far too homey and wholesome for the producer of the CSI V forensics TV franchise. I wondered what he’d got in exchange. Some notorious X-rated early foreign film, no doubt, like Hedy Lamarr’s Ecstasy with the first feature-film nude scene. Hector mentioned she and Dorothy Lamour had been guests at the Enchanted Cottage decades ago.

That reminded me that Howard Hughes in his heyday had dated both of those black-and-white film bombshells and he’d be chasing after classic girlie movies too.

“No,” Hassard was saying in answer to my question. I can’t afford to put all my eggs in one basket. I’m going to let these CinSims make themselves at home throughout the hotel-casino. That way, customers will keep running into them in different areas and think we’ve got more than we do.”

“You might keep Almira Gulch microchipped and confined to one location,” I suggested. “She is the villain of the piece.”

“That old gal in the battle-axe hat?” Hassard squinted her way and was met with a withering stare. “I see what you’re getting at. Yeah. Maybe I’ll station her at a casino cashier’s cage. She’s ugly enough to scare folks off from bothering to collect their winnings. I’ll have my tech person handle that in the morning. Meanwhile …”

Hassard stepped up to the milling group. “Okay, you CinSim people. I need you to scatter throughout the building. Check it out. Find some casino spots that appeal to you. And you, miss. Yes, the girl in the checked jumper. Make sure to get your little dog outside for enough ‘walks,’ if you know what I mean.”

For the first time I considered the embarrassing issue of CinSim elimination. I hoped the zombie element of the combo ruled there, although feral film zombies certainly … ate.

“Okay, gang.” Hassard clapped his hands and shooed the CinSims out of his office like a flock of farm chickens, Quicksilver escorting Almira Gulch and giving her a last warning growl.

Ric, who’d been conferring with Tallgrass all the while the CinSims had offered comic relief, approached Ben and me.

“Old friend,” Tallgrass said to Hassard. “We four”— Quicksilver nosed his hand—“ah, five, need to sit and powwow, as they say in the cowboy movies.”

“Waal, sure,” Ben said. “Pull up your chairs again. Here’s one for the little lady.”

I’m taller than he, but I accepted the chair Ben Hassard scooted under my navy-skirted rear.

“Another round of Old Crow, gentlemen and lady? Big doggy? Maybe you need to walk the dog, Miss Street?”

Quick and I gave him such a tandem look of disdain that he hastily sat behind the desk and began pouring more of the Old Crow into glasses.

“None for me,” I said, fanning my fingers over the glass. Ric followed suit, but Tallgrass nodded, then drank it all in one go.

“Ben, my friend,” he said. “We gotta have a frank talk here.”

Ben gulped from his glass, and then added Ric’s and my portions to what was left.

“You saw it, Tallgrass,” Ben said. “I’ve got the final piece of the hotel-casino in place. Those silly CinSims haven’t their like in a thousand-mile circumference. I know they’re kinda corny, but—”

“Corny?” I exploded. “You have an iconic CinSim coup here.”