by E. M. Foner
Thirteen
“Come in, come in,” Kelly greeted the guests from Flower. “Joe set up for the game earlier and he’ll be back in a minute. Grab a seat on the couch and I’ll show you my photo album.”
“I took those wedding pictures, Kelly,” Lynx reminded her. “Woojin and I have seen them all before, unless you’ve added stills from the Grenouthian crew who shot the SBJ Fashions commercial or from the station’s security imaging.”
“This is a new album I started for our embassy renovation,” Kelly explained, fetching it from the top of the bookshelf as her friends from the Eccentric Enterprises circuit ship took their seats. “I asked Libby to capture a single security image every day and then I got Donna to print them. If you flip through the pages, it’s like watching a movie,” she added as she handed the album to Woojin.
“Nothing’s happening,” he said as he slowly flipped through the pages. “Wait, somebody cleaned up the garbage. Okay, and now they’re tearing the place apart.” Then he came to the end of the images. “That’s it?”
“I had some trouble finding a contractor at the start but now everything is full steam ahead,” Kelly told them enthusiastically. “The construction crew from one of Daniel’s sovereign human communities is going to start installing the finish panels and the millwork tomorrow.”
“Then we’ll have something to look forward to when we return next time,” Lynx said, waving off the proffered photo album. “By the way, I can report that our push to get everybody to refer to the Conference of Sovereign Human Communities by the original acronym is succeeding. CoSHC is just easier to say, even for the aliens.”
“The big test will come at the next major conference Daniel is hosting, but that’s not for another four or five cycles. So what’s new with Flower?”
“She’s begun substitute teaching in some of our schools,” Lynx informed the ambassador. “Flower has always been partial to children, and I know she discusses the lesson plans ahead of time with Libby.”
“The biggest change is adding Union Station to the midpoint of our circuit,” Woojin said. “The Dollnick distributors were getting antsy about running down their stock of parts, but they didn’t want to pay just to have a few hundred crates of this and that delivered because it’s a low-margin business. Plus, the extra stop gives the aliens who signed on a break from being surrounded by humans all the time.”
“And our police deployments?”
“No issues on the open worlds, but things on some of the habitats and human mining outposts were getting out of hand, and they’ve had to use force in some instances. That’s why we recruit from ex-mercenaries.”
“How about cooperation with the other species on crooked labor contractors?”
Woojin nodded. “Going well, especially with the Dollnicks. Your sabbatical replacement put us in touch with the middle managers for several Dolly princes and they’ve agreed to do business with the bad actors in order to gather evidence. It’s almost surprising how many people there are left on Earth who will sign up with an illegal labor contractor, but the recruiters play the affinity card in poor areas and go after the young. With the help of the Dollnicks, I think we’re beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Turning poetic in your old age, Wooj?” Joe asked, taking a seat in the living room area. “And where’s the heiress to the Pyun fortune?”
“Em is sleeping,” Lynx told him. “InstaSitter extended their services to Flower while she’s in the parking area. I’d forgotten how easy it was to get a sitter on no notice.”
“That reminds me,” Woojin said. “I should call in and make sure that—”
“Stop,” his wife ordered, rolling her eyes. “Men.”
“Where’s the beetle doctor?” Joe asked. “I set out a special leaning chair for him. My son-in-law took it in barter from some crazy trader who actually does business in Farling space.”
“Probably rushing around and seeing all of his former patients,” Lynx replied. “Gryph gave Flower permission to send one of her bots aboard with him, and I’m sure they’ll be along any minute.”
“Why would Flower send a bot to Union Station?” Kelly asked.
“She wants to play,” Woojin explained. “Lynx and I made the mistake of teaching her poker and she can’t get enough of it.”
“I was only planning on eight players,” Joe said. “I better set up a second table and see who else I can hunt up. It’s a weird night because Libby scheduled some last-minute school thing for parents and the Grenouthian Network is giving Chastity an award for the best primitive news service, so that tied up Blythe and Clive as well.”
“We’re not playing,” Lynx told him.
“Flower has sort of ruined us for cards,” Woojin confirmed. “At first it was funny watching a twenty-thousand-year-old Dollnick AI become addicted to a simple game, but she got so obsessive about winning that playing turned into a chore. She’s even started waiving morning calisthenics for humans who will play poker with her.”
“Did she hook in the Farling?” Joe asked. “He’s a pretty good card player.”
“M793qK always says he’s too busy,” Lynx said. “What with sports injuries from the mandatory team competitions Flower insists on, and a backlog of underserved patients at every habitat and mining outpost we visit, we could do with two more of him.” She glanced around to make sure the beetle hadn’t arrived yet, and added, “You should see the doctor with the poor people. It’s not like he ever charged anybody more than a handful of creds, but he always makes sure to get something from them so they don’t feel like charity cases. I once saw him accept a shiny rock from a little boy, and he keeps it on top of his DNA analyzer as if it’s a treasure.”
“Well, the two of you are missing out on an opportunity to win some money,” Joe told them. “We have a couple of newbies coming tonight.”
“Who?” Kelly asked.
“The Vergallian ambassador, for one. I thought I told you.”
“I didn’t realize you were on such close terms,” his wife replied, letting a slight edge creep into her voice.
“We talked during the dinner at the fundraiser and she mentioned that she always wanted to see Dring at work. You remember how she bid against herself for Affie’s crazy sculpture so she has to be a genuine art lover. I brought her over to Dring’s a few days ago, and the next thing I knew, he asked if we had room for her at the game.”
“So who else is coming?”
“Dring and Aainda,” Joe counted off on his fingers, “Jeeves, with a guest who he said has never played before makes four. Herl, Doc, and we just found out that Flower is sending a bot, so that’s seven, plus me,” he concluded, folding down an eighth finger and standing up to welcome the Maker. “And here’s Dring.”
“Woojin, Lynx,” the chubby reptilian shape-shifter greeted the Pyuns. “I hope your second circuit with Flower is meeting with resounding success.”
“I’m not sure I’d put it in such strong terms, but we’re doing alright,” Lynx replied.
Woojin leaned in close to the Maker and muttered, “Watch out for Flower bluffing when she starts speculating about everybody else’s hands out loud.”
A giant beetle strode into the ice-harvester, and then there was a minor scuffle at the top of the ramp behind him as Jeeves and an unfamiliar bot tried to enter at the same time. Baa pushed between them, looked around suspiciously for any dogs, and then reached into her fashionable purse and ostentatiously tied a gauze surgical mask over the lower part of her face.
“M793qK, Baa, Jeeves,” Kelly greeted them in order. “And you must be Flower’s bot.”
“For all intents and purposes, I am Flower,” the Dollnick maintenance bot responded. “My Stryx mentor is providing me with additional data from the station security system to enhance the limited sensor suite of this crude extension of my presence. What’s the buy-in?”
“Twenty creds,” Joe replied without batting an eye.
Flower’s maintenance
bot popped open a side panel, revealing a mechanical counter of the type used by Dollnick merchants to make change. The bot depressed a lever, allowing a twenty-cred coin to fall from the bottom of the fattest tube, and handed the coin to Joe, who began counting out poker chips.
The Drazen spymaster and the Vergallian ambassador entered together, so deep in conversation that Herl almost walked right into Baa before he noticed her presence. His tentacle immediately stood on end and he stuttered an apology.
“Oh, don’t be a baby,” the Terragram mage said. “I’m not going to turn you into anything, at least not with all these people watching.”
“Joe told me that we might be short a few players tonight so I invited Baa as my guest,” Jeeves announced. “She’s never played poker before.”
“Neither have I,” Aainda said, “but Vergallians play a similar game, so I hope I don’t slow you down.”
“You’ll catch on in a hand or two,” Joe told her. “I used to play some of your games in the barracks when I was stationed on Empire worlds. The main difference is we have more numbered cards and a smaller royal family, but it’s backwards.”
“Enough chit-chat,” M793qK rubbed out on his speaking legs, and then his multi-faceted eye fell on the Farling chair Joe had put out for him. “You rented me a recliner?”
“Kevin traded for it,” Joe told the alien doctor. “He wanted you to know how much he appreciates your fixing up his radiation poisoning when he first came to the station.”
The beetle eased himself down on the belly of his carapace and checked the distance to the table for his uppermost set of legs, which he used for card handling. “I will have to drop in and express my surprise that a human is capable of higher emotions such as gratitude.”
“I wish I had your way with words,” Baa said, settling in two chairs to the Farling’s left. “Where are my chips?”
“Twenty-cred buy-in,” Joe said.
“I’ll pay you after the game,” the mage offered.
“I’ll get it from her,” Jeeves said, sliding the banker forty creds. “I can always dock her pay.”
“Here’s your vegetable smoothie,” Kelly told Dring, setting the tall glass in front of him at the table. “You’ll have to mix your own Divverflip, Herl. I’m not touching that stuff.”
“What will you have, Aainda?” the Drazen spymaster asked as he began mixing a drink at the McAllister’s bar cart.
“The ambassador’s husband mentioned something about a home brew I’d like to try,” the Vergallian replied.
“One for me as well,” the Farling said, raising a leg. “And some of those twisted flour things with salt.”
“Pretzels.” Joe put the box of poker chips aside and retrieved the large bowl of pretzels he’d put out on the sideboard. Beowulf materialized out of thin air to demand his tithe and Baa tightened her surgical mask.
“Why don’t you ask the doc if he’s got something for your allergy?” Joe suggested to the feathered mage.
“My body may display a superficial resemblance to humanoids, but my species has been around for longer than the Farlings and our biology is too complex for them to decipher.”
“The allergy is psychosomatic,” M793qK retorted. “Likely brought on by feelings of guilt associated with playing god to primitive species.”
“If nobody else is going to deal, I will,” Flower said sharply, and her bot extended a custom-made appendage that looked like it was engineered specially for playing cards. “If you’ve overlooked the obvious in preparing for this party, I brought my own deck.”
Joe broke open a fresh pack of cards and passed them to Dring, who gave them in turn to Aainda, who placed them in the bot’s deck-sized holder. Flower immediately performed a number of high-speed shuffles that would likely have resulted in a lost finger for a biological, if any were capable of moving so quickly, and then held the deck out for the Vergallian to cut.
“What do I do?” Aainda asked.
“Just tap the top card to show that you trusted the shuffle,” the Maker advised her.
Aainda tapped the deck, and then a manipulator tipped with a suction cup began lifting off cards and shooting them smoothly around the table so they stopped exactly front-and-center for each player.
“Five-card stud,” Flower announced. “I find it’s a good game for beginners. What’s your traditional ante?”
“Twenty millicreds,” Joe told her. “Two yellows.”
“Hardly worth playing,” Flower replied, using a different attachment to push two yellows into the pot. “We bet after each up-card,” the Dollnick AI continued for the sake of the newbies. “High card showing controls the bet, and then we proceed clockwise. Do you play a bring-in?”
“Not usually. It’s up to the dealer,” Joe replied, somewhat impressed with Flower’s level of knowledge about one of the less popular poker variations.
“Then I’ll keep it simple. The bid goes to our fine feathered friend with the king showing.”
“But the Farling has a queen showing,” Aainda protested.
“That’s what I meant about the face cards being backwards,” Joe told her. “And there’s a single prince character called a jack instead of eldest and youngest princesses.”
“Ah, that explains why your people never figured out how to govern themselves.”
“I’ll go a red one,” Baa said, moving a chip into the pot.
“You’re allowed to look at your hole card,” Jeeves told her.
“I know what it is,” the mage replied irritably. “And yours is a seven of diamonds and Joe has an ace of clubs.”
“Are we allowed to use our abilities?” Flower asked eagerly. “I’ve been playing the humans on their level.”
“No, we are not allowed to cheat,” Jeeves said. “Baa, you gave me your word not to use any of your powers. I’m very disappointed.”
“I can’t even use my eyes? I saw your seven because you practically shoved it in my face, and Joe would do well to place his beer mug forward of his hole card, rather than behind it where the reflection is clear as glass.”
“You were a little sloppy looking at your card,” the Farling told Jeeves. “I also saw it out of the corner of my eye and I wasn’t even trying to look.”
“That’s because those multi-faceted eyes of yours have a thousand corners,” the Stryx grumbled.
“Does the Drazen bid?” Flower asked impatiently.
“Fold,” Herl said, turning over his up-card.
“Ace-queen raises,” Joe said, throwing in a red and a blue.
Dring pushed his cards in. “I’ll sit this hand out. So you believe that Humans would be better governed by queens, Aainda?”
The Vergallian showed the Maker her hole card, and then mucked the hand when he shook his head in the negative. “It took hundreds of thousands of years for our hereditary ruling families to establish their bloodlines. I’m afraid the Humans don’t have anybody biologically qualified for the task.”
The bot Flower was operating flipped over its up-card rather than staying in. “Doctor?”
“It’s a pity that EarthCent hasn’t grown into a true government,” M793qK commented as he folded his hand. “CoSHC comes closer to the classical definition, though the member communities seem surprisingly reluctant to take the lead.”
“EarthCent is coming along just fine, thank you,” Jeeves said, pushing away his cards. “It’s only that their representatives lack credibility with the other species because their selection process is opaque.”
“Your selection process,” Baa corrected the Stryx. “Oh, take it,” she said to Joe, who pumped his fist in the air and raked in the antes plus the mage’s red. “The Stryx just need to make the criteria for choosing EarthCent employees public and then manipulate the process to reach a desirable outcome.”
“Five-card draw,” the Farling announced, accepting the deck from Flower’s bot. “Who hasn’t paid the ante? Baa?”
The mage made a shrill buzzing sound at the beetle, w
ho merely clicked his mandibles in amusement as he began shooting cards around the table.
“We been looking into tests,” Jeeves said, carefully bending up the edges of his cards to check what he’d drawn.
“Nearly two years of watching the schools onboard my ship has taught me that Humans love tests,” Flower informed the Stryx. “They also seem to embrace failure.”
“Are we supposed to turn any of these over?” Aainda asked.
“The goal in draw is to make the best five-card hand,” Joe told her. “You can request up to three new cards from the dealer after the first round of betting.”
“So it’s the best five-card hand out of eight?”
“No, you have to give up the cards you don’t want to keep before getting the new ones.”
“I’m in for a red,” Jeeves said, flipping a chip into the pot. “The problem with tests the way you mean them is that they only provide a glimpse of how a person responds at a particular time.”
“Are five red cards a flush?” Baa asked.
“Only if they’re all diamonds or hearts,” Joe told her.
“So three of one and two of the other is a poor hand?”
“Unless they’re all in order. That would be a straight.”
“Then I guess I’ll call,” the mage said, throwing in a red. “So how have the Stryx been selecting candidates to date? Are all of those little teacher bots spying on the Humans?”
Herl silently pushed in a red.
“I forgot to put out peanuts,” Joe said, tossing in his hand. Beowulf left his begging stand next to the Farling to go supervise the transfer of cocktail peanuts from a can to a glass dish.
Dring lifted a single red off his stack and carefully placed it in the pot. “I’ve studied the teacher bots to satisfy my own curiosity on a few points and I don’t think it would be fair to characterize their data-gathering function as spying. Retaining some information is necessary for tailoring lesson plans, especially as the student advances.”
“How convenient,” Baa said, affecting a sniff that turned into a sneeze.
