The new name was due, in part, to the station's beacon, which was said to be strong enough to cause interference in neighboring solar systems. If the ever-present advertising was not enough, the beacon made sure no one passed through that sector of space without hearing of Lorelei's lures and charms. "Once you visit Lorelei," the catchy slogan ran, "you'll never want to leave!"
The reality was a little grimmer: Once you visit Lorelei, you might not be able to leave. Not that there was physical danger, mind you ... it would be bad publicity to hurt a tourist. The real danger on Lorelei was its famous, vampiric casinos.
The inside of the space station's wheel design had been filled in and painted to look like a massive roulette wheel, which, while it was eye-catching to those in ships with view points, had a practical function as well. The surface of the wheel was actually a massive solar energy cell, endlessly gathering power from the stars and feeding it to the casinos ... and they needed it!
The casinos were dazzling to the point of being awe-inspiring, each trying to outshine, outglitz its neighbors. Though there was no "sunlight" on the station, the massive, circular main corridor needed no streetlights, nor did the electric shuttle vehicles moving tourists from destination to destination require headlights. The same artificial gravity which kept the buildings to four stories or less, forcing the casinos to spread out rather than up, was actually a boon to designing their exterior light displays. Freed of the physics of engineering, by the abruptly lessening gravity above the buildings, the casinos' light displays were spectacular, as they almost floated in the "air," fighting for the attention of passing tourists. These displays around "the Strip" kept the station's interior lit to near-daylight brightness-near daylight as the wattage was carefully controlled to create an illusion of darkness above the casinos, thus enhancing the effectiveness of the light shows. There was no day or night on Lorelei, only a perpetual twilight through which the tourists, vacationers, and, of course, gamblers walked, rode, or, eventually, staggered in their pursuit of pleasure. The only concession to normality was that the rooms in the casino hotels all had blackout curtains, so that one could shut out the light when, and if, one wanted to sleep.
Of course, the carefully maintained illusion on Lorelei was that no one slept. The casinos never closed, and neither did the restaurants or shops. Entertainment booked to lure people into one casino or another was simply advertised as "every three hours" rather than specific showtimes.
In short, there was a studied sense of timelessness which permeated Lorelei-for a specific reason. The longer people gambled, the better it was for the casinos. While there might be the occasional "lucky hit" or "hot run," if the players kept betting long enough, the house odds would catch up with them, and all their winnings, plus whatever they were willing to lose of what they brought with them, ended up in the casino vaults.
This was the real trap of the Lorelei's song, and many who arrived by private ship left by public transport. Others, who could no longer afford even public transport, were absorbed into the station's work force until they could raise enough money to leave, which rarely happened, as they would usually succumb to the temptation of the tables once more, trying desperately to "build a stake" while the house yawned and raked in their savings. Those that did manage to escape, vowing never to return again, were quickly replaced by the next shipload of eager faces and fat wallets, each planning to have a good time and maybe win an instant fortune on a lucky roll or turn of a card.
There was a seemingly endless supply of these replacements, as the publicity machine of Lorelei was mercilessly effective, and unceasing in its quest to find yet one more way to keep the lure of Lorelei in front of the public. Thus, it was no surprise to insiders that the media had been alerted and was waiting when the Omega Mob arrived on Lorelei.
"Excuse me, Mr. Phule?"
The Legionnaire commander halted, not ten paces from stepping off the gangplank, and blinked in surprise at the figure blocking his way. The pudgy man was wearing a fluorescent-green jumpsuit with a large blue bow tie, leaving one with the quick impression of being confronted by a prize-winning frog.
"Actually it's `Captain Jester' when I'm on duty," he corrected gently.
"But you are Willard Phule? The megamillionaire turned soldier?"
Phule flinched a bit, as he always did when publicly confronted with his wealth-generated fame, and shot a quick glance at the company. The Legionnaires were ambling off the ship, some gawking at the casino light displays while others started to crowd close to see what was happening with their commander.
"That's correct," he said levelly.
"Great!" the man exclaimed, seizing Phule's hand and giving it a hurried pump. "Jake Herkamer, here. I was wondering if we could have a few minutes of your time for a quick interview on your new assignment?"
As he spoke, he made a magician's pass, and a microphone appeared in his hand. Simultaneously the portable floodlights came on, alerting Phule to the presence of holo cameras, which, until then, had been undetected.
"Umm ... could this wait until I get my troops settled in the hotel?" Phule hedged.
"Good point! Hey, guys! Get some shots of the soldiers before we lose them in the hotel!"
Phule felt his muscles tighten as the camera crew obediently began to pan over the gathering Legionnaires, who mugged or glowered for the cameras depending upon their individual inclination. While he had known all along that this assignment would put his force in the public eye more than ever before, he also knew that there were several Legionnaires who had joined up specifically to escape from their earlier lives, and were therefore quite nervous about having their pictures and current location broadcast by the media.
"Rembrandt ... Armstrong!"
"Sir!"
"Here, sir!"
The two lieutenants materialized at his side.
"Form the company up, over there, while I take care of this. If it runs more than a couple minutes, move them out to the hotel. Get them away from these cameras."
Turning back to the reporter as the junior officers started off, he forced a smile.
"I suppose I could spare a few minutes," he said.
"Great!" the reporter beamed. "Hey, guys! Over here! Start shooting. Now!"
He leaned into the microphone, showing an impressive number of teeth.
"We're here today with Willard Phule, or, as he's known in the secretive Space Legion, Captain Jester. He and his famous elite force of Legionnaires have just arrived on Lorelei. Tell me, Captain, are you and your force here for business or pleasure?"
Of course, I have no way of telling how the interview upon our arrival was received by the viewers, as it went out on stellarwide broadcast and, as I've mentioned before, I am not omnipresent.
From subsequent events, however, I feel I am able to project with some accuracy how it was viewed in at least two locations: back on Haskin's Planet and here on Lorelei.
"Hey, Jennie! Come here a sec! I think you'll want to see this!" Annoyed at the interruption, Jennie Higgens glanced up from the notes she was reviewing for that night's broadcast.
"What is it? I'm kinda busy here."
"Your boyfriend's being interviewed on interstellar, and Jake the Jerk's got him."
"Really?"
Jennie decided the notes could wait a little longer and joined the small cluster of newsroom staff crowding around the monitor bank. Due to the multiscreen nature of their business, they had the monitors set to display the broadcasts on flat screens to avoid the chaos of multiple projections.