by Nolan Fury
“He was a little snooty, don’t you think?” Tyler said. “Calling me a service bot.” He scoffed.
“Well, aren’t you?”
“Yes, technically. But it’s rude to assume. I’m much more than a service bot. And I have a lifetime of experiences that give me a unique perspective on the universe.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” I was finding out that Tyler was extremely sensitive.
At the curb in front of the spaceport, we picked up an automated cab. The car drove us through the sprawling mega city. Traffic was a nightmare. Construction had closed off several streets and narrowed several others. The line of cars and taillights extended as far as the eye could see. It took an hour to go seven blocks. We could have gotten out and walked faster.
The cab finally dropped us off on the corner of 123rd and Wilturn. By the time we realized we were in the wrong place, the cab had already sped away.
I clenched my jaw and grumbled obscenities under my breath.
Tyler pulled up a map of the city. “We’re not that far away. It’s just a few blocks over. I think you’re better off walking.”
“I agree.”
We snaked our way down the sidewalk, navigating the horde of pedestrians. Cars zipped by. Ion exhaust filled the air. Horns honked. Homeless begged for change. It was like any other major city, except it was halfway across the galaxy, and in another dimension.
A guy ran past me and snatched a mobile phone from a girl’s hand as she was texting.
I clenched my jaw and chased after the guy. Even in the Ultraverse, there were petty thieves. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. My legs drove me forward as I sprinted down the sidewalk, weaving through the maze of people.
I ran past the girl. Her wide eyes followed me, her mouth agape, shocked by the incident.
The perp turned at the next block, then darted into the street. Horns honked and automated cars braked hard. Grills ate the pavement, narrowly missing the thief. The cars shouted warnings at the perp. “Caution. You have made an illegal crossing. Please be more careful.”
I darted into the street after him, just as the cars began moving again. They abruptly halted and shouted the same warning at me.
I followed the perp into a narrow alleyway. The sound of our footsteps echoed off the building walls. The narrow passage was littered with trash and scraps of paper. It smelled like stale garbage and piss.
I was gaining on the bastard.
18
A chain-link fence blocked the alley. The thief leapt into the air, grabbed hold of the links, and pulled himself up.
He didn’t get very far. I was right behind him. I leapt and grabbed the back of his jacket and flung him to the pavement. He smacked the ground and cracked his head against the concrete. The impact dazed him for a moment.
I snatched the phone from his hand. The would-be thief scampered to his feet, then ran back the way he came.
I didn’t bother chasing after him. I had gotten the girl’s phone back, and I had other business to take care of.
I retraced my steps and made my way back to the scene of the crime. Tyler hovered beside the girl. I handed her the phone, and her face lit up with glee.
She was beautiful. She had pink hair and blue eyes and smooth skin. She wore a shiny silver outfit that hugged her form and exposed her toned midriff. She looked sweet and innocent, with a dash of naughtiness.
“Thank you so much!” she said. “I’m Quinn.”
“DE,” I said, shaking her hand. “I see you’ve met Tyler.”
“Yes. He’s been keeping me entertained. You must let me give you some type of reward.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
“Seriously. It was no big deal. I can’t stand guys like that.”
“It was my fault. I should have been paying more attention. I know better.”
“Nonsense. It’s not your fault.”
“Are you sure I can’t give you some type of reward? I’m going to feel guilty if I don’t give you something.”
“I’m positive. Your thanks is enough.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Are you from around here?” she asked.
“No. We’re here on… business.”
“Oh, are you here for the Interplanetary Trade Convention?”
“No. Actually we’re here to get something from an apothecary.”
“A love potion?” she asked with a smile.
I grinned. “No.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”
“No problem.” She was really cute, and I didn’t mind talking to her.
“Well, I’ve taken enough of your time. I should let you get back to your business. Thank you again.” She bit her lip as she thought. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”
“Really, it’s not necessary.”
She looked disappointed. “Okay. Hope you enjoy your visit.”
She thanked me again, then continued down the sidewalk. My eyes followed her. She was absolutely adorable.
“I think you’re losing your touch,” Tyler said. “She was totally into you. You should have gotten her number.”
“We are on a mission, remember? I don’t think I’ve got time to indulge in extracurricular activities.”
“You had time to bag the hag.”
I glared at him, playfully. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
We continued down the sidewalk and found the apothecary. Bottles of potions and serums lined the shelves. The air was filled with the scent of spices and herbs and rare ingredients.
The store was empty. I strolled to the counter and rang the bell. There was no response. I exchanged a glance with Tyler, then rang the bell again.
A moment later, an older man ambled from the storeroom. He had a round face and a large nose and wire-rimmed spectacles. He was bald on top and had a plump belly. He had a friendly face. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for Brikum Raal.”
“You got him.”
“I was told that you might be able to help me with some Velnox anti-venom.”
“Let me see if I have the ingredients.” He turned around and perused the shelves. He squinted through the spectacles. It looked like he could barely read the labels. He pulled a bottle down, held it at arm’s-length, squinted again, then opened the top and sniffed it. His face crinkled from the foul odor.
He replaced the top and put the bottle back on the shelf. He ran his finger along the bottles until he found what he was looking for. “Ah!”
He took the second bottle down and went through the same process. Then he handed the bottle to me. “What does that say?”
“Suvla Extract.”
He snatched the bottle back. “Oh, no. That’s not it.”
Raal continued his search. “Here we go.” He pulled another bottle down and surveyed the ingredients. This time he didn’t show it to me. He seemed satisfied that he had the right ingredient. “This is it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know my business, son.” He set the bottle on the counter and continued looking. He pulled two more bottles from the shelves and examined their labels. Both of the hand written labels fell off and fluttered to the ground. “Whoops!”
He knelt down and scooped them up, grumbling to himself about which label went to which bottle.
My eyes widened with disbelief. I gave a worried glance to Tyler and muttered, “Are you sure the hag knows what she’s talking about?”
Raal fumbled with the labels and stuck them back on the bottles. I was pretty sure he had gotten them mixed up. He put one of them back on the shelf, then grabbed the bottle that he had set on the counter. “I’ll be right back. I just need to mix these up.”
“Are you sure you’ve got the right ones?”
Raal scowled at me. “Son, I’ve been making potions s
ince before you were itching your daddy’s pants.”
He slipped back into the storeroom. I glanced around at the various bottles on the wall. There were thousands of them.
Raal returned a few moments later with a small tincture bottle. He set the main ingredients back on the shelf and set the tincture bottle on the counter before me. “There you go. Anti-venom for the Velnox. Guaranteed to work, if you follow the instructions.”
“What are the instructions?”
“Drink the whole bottle. Every last drop. No matter how bad it tastes. Before the paralysis sets in! That’s important.”
I took the dark amber bottle and looked at the liquid. “Guaranteed to work, huh?”
“Guaranteed. Money back. Of course, if it doesn’t work, you’ll be dead. But, trust me. It will work.”
His guarantee didn’t exactly instill confidence. “What do I owe you?”
A wide smile tugged at his lips. “That will be 25,000 credits.”
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “25,000 credits?”
“Take it or leave it.”
I looked to Tyler. “Pay the man.”
The robot cringed. “We don’t have that much in the account.”
Raal snatched the tincture from my grasp and grumbled, “When you can come up with the money, you can have the tincture!”
He stormed back into the storeroom.
I let out a frustrated exhale. “What the hell are we going to do now?”
19
Part of me was wishing I would have taken the reward money from Quinn when she offered, though I doubt it would have been anywhere near 25,000 credits.
Tyler and I stood on the sidewalk, contemplating our next move. “How much money is left in Ruby’s account?”
“3275 credits.”
“That’s all? I thought she was a powerful succubus with a vast fortune.”
“She’s got most of her money tied up in stocks. I can’t access her brokerage account. I can only use a petty cash fund for groceries and other household expenses. It automatically gets replenished at the beginning of each month. I won’t be able to access her other accounts without written authorization, and I don’t think we’ll be able to get that until we rescue her.”
I deflated. Our journey had barely started, and we were already hitting a seemingly insurmountable roadblock. Short of robbing a bank, I wasn’t sure how we were going to come up with the cash. And that wasn’t my style.
A bus rumbled by, spitting exhaust into the air. The advertisement painted on the side caught my attention. Lucky Lou’s Casino.
My eyes sparkled. “We are hitting the casino!”
Tyler look skeptical. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? We might end up in worse shape than we are right now. Besides, give some consideration to the name. Lucky Lou’s? Lucky Lose?” He said, accentuating the pun. “That place is for suckers.”
“You’ve got a better idea?”
“No.”
“I say we give it a shot.”
“Bots aren’t allowed on the casino floor. I can go in with you and purchase the game checks, but I’m forbidden from gambling.”
We caught a cab over to Lucky Lou’s. The inside of the casino buzzed with activity. Lights flashed and bells dinged. People pulled slot levers. Coins erupted into trays. Dealers flicked cards. Roulette wheels spun. There were various other games that I didn’t recognize from around the galaxy. It was sensory overload, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
Tyler got a fat stack of game checks from the cashier and handed me the tray.
“How much is here?” I asked.
“That’s 2000 credits. I left enough in the account to pay for the Bay rental and any small miscellaneous expenses that we might incur while we are here. Namely food for you since I don’t need to eat.”
I looked over the multicolored game checks. They were in denominations of 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 200, and a single 500 chip. “I’ll meet you in the bar afterward.”
“Blackjack has the best odds,” Tyler mentioned.
“That’s my game!” I said with confidence.
I spun around and headed onto the busy floor. I perused the blackjack tables, deciding where to start. There were a few blackjack tables that seemed to be based on a card structure from the Ultraverse and other dimensions, but I stuck with the tables that had an Earth-based system.
There were a surprisingly large amount of commercial influences from Earth in the Ultraverse. Brands had expanded into this dimension. It had been a completely untapped market. Now it was flooded with merchandise and marketing. You could find versions of products here that you never could back home.
I figured there must have been supers working as CEOs or marketing executives in these companies, and they had the ability to move between dimensions. From what I gathered from Ruby, you could transport items between dimensions, if you possessed that ability—not every super did. But a large volume of commercial products would have to be manufactured within the Ultraverse. With as big and diverse as this dimension was, it would be a financial boon to any Earth-based corporation that could establish a foothold. I had seen advertisements for familiar soft drinks, beer, liquor, cigarettes, and even clothing designers. It got me thinking about all the companies on Earth. I wondered if some of them started in the Ultraverse?
I took a seat at a 500 credit table. I could lose everything in a few hands, but I could also achieve our goal faster. Besides, it was the only table with an open seat.
Standard etiquette was to wait until the dealer shuffled the shoe before entering, or you could ask the other players for permission. You didn’t want to jump into a game and get accused of messing up someone else’s mojo.
I waited and watched, getting a feel for the game, the players, and the dealer. After a few hands, the dealer shuffled. I had seen some pretty talented dealers in Vegas do some fancy card work, but this guy had six arms. Watching him shuffle and deal was mind spinning. He was a purple alien with four eyes and an oblong head. He wore the standard dealer uniform of a tuxedo shirt, bow tie, and vest.
I pushed a 500 credit game check into the betting circle and the dealer dealt me in. The cards had animated holographic images on them. They were really cool looking.
I had a ten of diamonds and an ace of spades. Blackjack! I couldn’t restrain my grin. This was going to be my lucky day. I thought. Then shit went downhill.
20
I should have quit while I was ahead, or moved to another table, or found another game altogether. A string of losses had dropped me down to 510 credits. Things weren’t looking good.
A scantily clad waitress sauntered by and offered me a drink. I figured I might as well have one on the house since they had taken most of my money, anyway.
I took the glass of whiskey and slugged it down. The warmth burned my throat and heated my belly. Maybe it would change my luck.
It was probably a bit of ego, or pride, or plain stubborn determination, but I stayed at the table. I wasn’t going to lose. It wasn’t in my nature to back down from a fight.
I slid my last 500 credit check into the betting circle. I figured that would leave me 10 credits to start over at a lower minimum table—worst-case scenario.
The dealer slid the cards out of the shoe and dealt them across the table. I gazed at the green felt and stared for a long moment at the ten of diamonds and ten of spades that lay before me. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. If I had another 500 credit check, I would have split. But as it was, I was happy for the win. The table paid out 1 to 1, and 3 to 2 for blackjack. I kept my bets modest from then on out, betting the table minimum.
I hit a lucky streak.
I brought my winnings up to 15,000 credits. A few players rotated out of the game, having gotten a run of bad luck.
The floor boss whispered in the dealer’s ear, and I got the impression they were going to change dealers and bring in a new shoe after the next round.
The casino didn’t like to lose.
The first card the dealer set down was a jack of spades. I held my breath for the second.
An ace of clubs.
Yes!
Cha-Ching!
I hollered and hooted and must have looked like an idiot. All eyes fell upon me. The shit-eating grin on my face was a mile wide.
The dealer slid 37,500 credits worth of checks across the green felt. It was time for me to leave the table. I wasn’t going to push my luck this time. I left a healthy tip for the dealer, stacked my checks neatly in a tray and pushed away from the table.
I strutted through the casino like I owned the place. My plan was to get to the cashier, exchange the checks for cash, find Tyler in the bar, and get the hell out of here. But things didn’t work out as I had hoped.
I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. Not a friendly hand. Not a pat on the back. The kind of grip that spelled trouble.
The hand belonged to a big thick guy in a suit with an earpiece. He was too big for the suit he was wearing. If he flexed, the back of the jacket would rip. He had a brown flattop haircut and his head disappeared into his beefy shoulders. He was clearly casino security. “Excuse me Mr...”
“Armstrong. Duane Earl Armstrong,” I said, proudly.
“I need a word with you. In private.”
“What’s this about?”
“It will only take a minute.”
“You know, I’m really in a hurry. I’d like to collect my winnings and be on my way.”
Two other towering security guards surrounded me.
“Mr. Armstrong, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” the beefy man said.
I glanced around at the men surrounding me. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you a minute.”
