The Game of Luck

by Catherine Cerveny

  A corner of his mouth turned up in a wicked grin, amused. “I’m sure the two of us can figure out how to raise one tiny dog.”

  “Maybe, but I want to make sure we’re doing this right. I want to be prepared.”

  “You can’t prepare for every eventuality. Things happen, you adapt. Shoes get chewed, puddles appear in the middle of the kitchen. We’re all learning and you can’t expect us or Feodor to be perfect.”

  “No, but I can certainly try.”

  He unwound his hands from my hair and we spent a moment watching Feodor run the length of the bench seat a few more times before he curled up in a ball. It was weird how we both did that—each of us fascinated watching this small furry creature amuse himself and us in the process.

  “Is it necessary we do this with Mannette Bleu?” he asked, still watching Feodor.

  “I almost got her killed; I feel like I owe her. She wants to incorporate it into the show, so when she asked, I couldn’t say no.”

  Alexei let out a deep breath, clearly restraining himself from saying something cutting, then letting it go. His intense dislike of Mannette was common knowledge, and completely mutual.

  “Then there’s the christening tomorrow. We could skip that and do something else,” he suggested, drumming his fingers on his thigh as if restless.

  “But I already promised I’d run the Tarot cards. I can’t back out now. My family would disown me.”

  “Babies don’t need their futures read.”

  “But it’s tradition.”

  “This is the third christening your family’s thrown this winter, and you’ve been there for all of them. You’ve done more than your fair share.” The tone implied he’d had more than enough as well. Privately I agreed, though I’d never admit it out loud.

  After the Dark Times on Earth about five hundred years ago, it had seemed the end of days was nigh. People swung back to religion with renewed zeal. Though the furor wasn’t as robust on Mars, my technophobe family had decided to cover all the bases and believed in a hodgepodge of everything. When it came to the spiritual well-being of newborn babies, those beliefs ranged from burying the placenta in the ground, to newborn ear-piecing to ward off evil spirits, to secret naming ceremonies. And we all got our heads sprinkled with holy water to protect against evil whether we needed it or not. Thanks to my family’s blacklisted status being revoked, we could now participate in One Gov’s Shared Hope program. That meant my family had begun reproducing like rabbits. So rather than planning individual christenings, they’d turned them into grand events celebrating several births at once.

  “It’s also the last christening too. It’s just four more babies and we’re off the hook.”

  “You’re forgetting about Lotus and Stanis,” Alexei said. “I recall you promising to throw their baby the shower of the century.”

  I winced at the reminder. “I may have been drunk when I said that. You should have stopped me.”

  “Unless I’m told otherwise, I have a strict policy of noninterference with my wife’s family” was his noncommittal answer, making me roll my eyes.

  My cousin Lotus had been my onetime receptionist when I’d had my Tarot card reading shop in Elysium City. She’d been planning to have a child with her then boyfriend—until she’d met Stanis. He was one of the Tsarist Consortium members Alexei had invited to Mars, as well as a childhood friend of his. Two seconds after meeting him, Lotus had ditched her boyfriend. And five minutes after that, it seemed she’d gotten herself pregnant with a fate-baby. She would be a mother in less than four months and I still couldn’t decide whether I was horrified or envious.

  “Okay, but after that, we’re done. No more christenings.” I gave him what I hoped wasn’t a brittle smile. Yes, no more christenings. Ever. And certainly not for us.

  He gave me a long look. “I didn’t realize marriage would make me so domesticated.”

  The tone made me wary. Not wary in a bad way, but more a reminder of how predatory and dangerous he could be. I hadn’t married the boy next door, after all. I hadn’t married the boy my family wanted for me either. No, that boy—Dante—had dropped me at the first sign of trouble. Instead, I’d married tall, dark, and very, very bad.

  “I don’t think anyone would accuse you of being domesticated,” I said, eyeing him carefully.

  He smiled and skimmed a hand along the side of my face, then my body, until it reached the hemline of my dress. Lust coiled in me. I knew exactly where this conversation was going and could see no way to head it off.

  “Only partially—despite your best efforts to tame me,” he agreed, kissing my throat and resting his hand between my thighs, reminding me of what he could do and had done in the past.

  I pushed against his shoulders. “Alexei, we’re almost at the kennel. I don’t want to be late for class. There isn’t time for this now!”

  “I can be quick when I know what my wife wants. She’s mentioned before I’m very good with my hands.”

  “The dog!” I whimpered as Alexei swept aside my panties and pushed two fingers inside of me without warning. “He’s watching.”

  “Feodor won’t mind,” he assured me as I clung to him and felt his teeth scrape along my throat. “And we won’t be late.”

  * * *

  In the most technical sense of the word, we weren’t late. However, given that the lot outside the kennel was full of personal self-drive units, we were among the last to arrive. Feodor bounced with excitement, pulling on his leash and dragging me off-balance. Around us was the usual cadre of chain-breakers who’d arrived in another vehicle. They were overly muscled Consortium security with identical suits, haircuts, and sunshades. Though my Russian had improved to the point where I could carry on a decent conversation, I still didn’t know who was who. Since I’d always considered myself good with people, I had to chalk up this particular failure in the “lose” category.

  When we reached the chip reader at the kennel’s front entrance, I groaned in frustration when the One Gov citizenship chip embedded in my c-tex wouldn’t scan. If I couldn’t scan in, the auto-field security system wouldn’t recognize me and I wouldn’t be able to enter the kennel. In the meantime, Alexei sailed through the entrance using his fancy t-mod skills to snipe the system. All the while, Feodor danced around my calves and tangled me in his leash, clearly thrilled at his new surroundings.

  “The auto-field is still deactivated. You can go through without scanning,” Alexei offered.

  I met Alexei’s mild glance. “I would have gotten it eventually,” I said.

  “I know, but as you say, we don’t want to be late. There isn’t time for you to swipe the reader two dozen times.”

  I couldn’t find it in me to be annoyed. “If the Consortium ever takes over the tri-system, can you set it so I never have to swipe another chip reader for the rest of my life?”

  “Of course,” he promised. Then he kissed the top of my head before bending down to unwind Feodor’s leash from around my legs.

  The kennel grounds covered several acres and sat like an oasis in the middle of Elysium City’s urban sprawl. On them were a series of interconnected buildings containing a play area, a pool, a doggy spa offering grooming services, around-the-clock veterinary care, dog sitters, and several guest suites should pet owners need to board their fur-babies for whatever reason. The decadence of it astounded me; these animals had it better than some people I knew.

  As we made our way to the training arena, I spied other people with their dogs and assumed they were also in the puppy class. Then again, maybe not—from the look of them, Alexei and I were severely underdressed.

  “Was there a dress code memo I missed? I didn’t know formal attire was required to watch dogs sniff each other’s butts,” I murmured to Alexei, directing his attention to the couple ahead. They wore enough sparkling fabric that my eyes watered, and they looked like they planned to go clubbing once class finished, if not sooner.

  He shrugged. “Mannette Bleu is here. The
y probably expect they’ll be on her broadcast.”

  While I respected the sentiment since I’d done my own primping, I also hadn’t shot myself in the face with a glitter cannon either. With them was a Doberman with its ears cropped and tail docked to a short stub.

  “I hope they modified the dog’s appearance in utero, and didn’t have some butcher mutilate it after.”

  “One Gov’s genetic tinkering has made people strive after preconceived notions of perfection that don’t exist. Everything is manufactured to reflect an unachievable construct,” he said. “Few think about who might suffer in their need to achieve that perfection.”

  I cast a look at him from the corner of my eye and decided to keep my mouth shut. I took his hand in mine, relieved when he laced our fingers together. I suspected we might not be talking about dogs anymore. I knew Alexei harbored resentment against both One Gov and those in the Consortium who’d created him. However, I had no idea how deep that well of bitterness went.

  We reached the outdoor training area and I could appreciate the gorgeous weather in a way I hadn’t earlier. When they’d terraformed Mars, they’d made it the paradise Earth had once been but would never be again. It was late afternoon and the sun hung low in the clear blue Martian sky. It would set within the next two hours and though it was winter, the air would still be warm—which came of living near the equator.

  In that, Earth and Mars were the same. However, on Mars, the seasons were twice as long, as was the year. To keep time in line with Earth, everyone celebrated two birthdays in one year. On Earth, my birthday had been in September. On Mars, it was in either Leo or Cygnus, depending on where we were in the Martian calendar. Next month would be my first birthday on Mars, and I’d be twenty-seven. I wondered if anyone could have predicted this was where I’d be at this point in my life. I hadn’t, and I read Tarot cards for a living.

  About eight other dogs and their owners were gathered in the training area. I caught sight of Mannette Bleu—impossible to miss, what with the traveling side show accompanying her. Also with her were four of her eight PVRs who recorded and streamed her feed to the CN-net via optic implants in their eyes. She’d brought two of her show-friends and their dog, a pug named Badger, as well as her newest boyfriend, Pear—yes seriously, Pear—and Daisy, a tawny-colored Great Dane. While the dogs sniffed one another in greeting, Mannette tottered over to us in sky-high platform boots that put her at eye level with Alexei.

  “Felicia, darling!” She squealed my name in a way that made several nearby dogs bark in surprise. “You gorgeous creature! You’re here. How are you? It feels like it’s been ages since I saw you!”

  She caught me in a hug that threatened to smother me in her cleavage. Air kisses followed.

  “Hi, Mannette,” I said once I could get away from her boobs. “You look amazing. Sorry we’re late. My fault. My meeting at work ran overtime.”

  “Ah, One Gov business,” she said knowingly before bending down to give Feodor some love. Alexei got a curt nod and a “Nice to see you.”

  “You look well, Mannette.”

  It was as friendly as they’d ever get with each other. Mannette had managed to land my ass in jail the moment I’d set foot on Mars thanks to failing to appear as my sponsor with Martian Immigration Services; it hadn’t endeared her to Alexei.

  Saying Mannette looked well was almost insulting; she was camera-ready at all times. While I was on board with looking my best, Mannette took it to a level even I found exhausting. With her rich dark skin, mane of shocking white hair, and blue eyes that put my neon blue dress to shame, she was a sight worth seeing. Pairing that with a skintight fluorescent orange tube mini and lime green boots, she was showstopping. As always, her entourage dressed to complement her outfit. “I hope you’re ready to have fun,” she said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

  “Me too,” I admitted. “We’ve been working with Feodor, but we still have some rough patches to iron out.”

  Conversations ended when the puppy class instructors appeared, a man and a woman. Both were of average height and attractiveness per One Gov specs and proceeded to explain the goals of the class, what we could expect to learn, and the tools we would be using.

  “We could have done this at home,” Alexei murmured in my ear.

  I elbowed him. “We’re here to have fun,” I reminded him. “Plus I couldn’t say no to Mannette.”

  “I could” was the answer, followed by “You have no idea how much you owe me for enduring that woman. I’ll enjoy having you paying me back, with interest.”

  I shivered in anticipation. I couldn’t help it; I was probably going to enjoy paying him back too.

  As the class progressed, we started working on our exercises—deciding on a basic series of commands and how we couldn’t expect our puppies to master them all at once. It didn’t take long to realize this wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat. Feodor had the attention span of, well, a puppy. He couldn’t focus on any task for long. Training him would take weeks of constant reinforcement and repetition. While I knew that in theory, it was something else to deal with it in practice.

  I also realized I was taking a class with two of the most well-known people on the planet, if not the tri-system—Alexei Petriv, leader of the Consortium, and Mannette Bleu, CN-net celebrity. I was also Under-Secretary Vieira’s granddaughter. I had entered a rarified level of society I’d never experienced before. I found it unsettling. No one could take their eyes off Mannette and the antics of her show-friends. Worse, I could practically feel the lust in the air as every pair of female eyes followed Alexei around the arena. It didn’t help that he glowered at Mannette in a way that made him both menacing and sexy at once.

  The attention got on my nerves. Coupled with the shitty afternoon I’d had at work, I found myself impatient and yelling at poor Feodor because he wouldn’t sit despite all my bribery doggy treats. Then I watched as he executed a perfect “sit” at Alexei’s command—in Russian, damn it—his little furry butt hitting the ground and his tail wagging proudly. It left me all too aware that everyone in the tri-system was watching me fail in all my glory.

  Mannette stopped mid-task leading Daisy through a series of perfect “sit” and “shake a paw” moves and said, “Whoa, Felicia! You okay? You look like you need a break.”

  “I’m fine,” I snapped more savagely than I intended. I watched Feodor roll onto his back, looking to Alexei for a belly rub. “Everything is fine. Just fucking amazing.”

  “Doesn’t sound fucking amazing,” she said, peering at me. “Dogs can be frustrating little creatures. They’re cute but they’re also holy terrors. Not unlike children, actually, though I wouldn’t equate raising a dog with raising a child. Dogs are exasperating but kids will drive you insane.”

  “Thanks so much for the words of wisdom. I’ll be sure to make note of them,” I said, annoyed. Great. Advice from Mannette.

  “Hold on a second. That’s not what’s happening here, is it?” she pressed, tossing Daisy’s leash to her latest boy toy. “Don’t tell me this is a practice run for the main event? Are you and the Russian planning on having a baby?”

  “What? No. That isn’t even on the agenda right now.”

  Just what I needed: More talk about kids, and the classic suggestion I was substituting something for the one thing I wanted but could never have. I could practically feel the lenses of all Mannette’s cameras zoom in for a close-up of my face. Like a shark catching the scent of blood in the water, Mannette circled, forever on the lookout for fresh drama. It was one of the things I both liked and disliked about her. You never knew if she was genuinely interested or if she just wanted to use you as a story line.

  “I’m trying to imagine what things would be like if the two of you had a kid, but I can’t,” she admitted. “You and the Russian as parents messes with my head.”

  She said it in teasing tones, using that way she had to exploit a situation a
nd unearth the most dramatic nuggets for her viewers. She may as well have poured HE-3 rocket fuel onto an explosion if that was the sort of drama she wanted. Alexei and I didn’t discuss children. We skirted around the issue. We pretended everything was fine. We acted like it didn’t matter because if we didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t a problem. We assumed we had all the time in the world. Except it was a problem, and we didn’t.

  “You’d tell me if you were pregnant, right?” she asked.

  “Yes I would tell you and no I’m not pregnant. That’s light-years away from happening.” I could just imagine everyone in the tri-system watching this and the wild speculation that would follow. “We’re happy with the way things are. Us having a family is something to consider for the future, but not right now.”

  Mannette’s expression was cagey. “That doesn’t sound like the Felicia Sevigny I know. Don’t forget, I’ve been there for your late-night drunken confessionals when we’ve gone clubbing. I remember the look on your face when Lotus announced she was pregnant. I bet you and the Russian are just playing it cool before you surprise the hell out of everyone—unless there’s something else going on. Is there?”

  Gods, sometimes I had a difficult time remembering why I was friends with Mannette. “I need to sit down.”

  “Not feeling sick, are you? Or dizzy? Maybe you’re experiencing morning sickness.”

  “It’s almost evening,” I pointed out.

  “Hey, that’s a thing too. Morning sickness isn’t just for mornings. Listen, don’t get all offended with me,” she said, holding up her hands in mock protest. She looked in Alexei’s direction, saw he spoke to the female instructor and didn’t seem to be paying attention to us. In a conspiratorial voice, she continued: “All I know is you’re not your cheerful self and I’m concerned. We’re friends. I gotta make sure my favorite Tarot card reader’s at her best. If there’s a baby on the way but you’re not ready to talk about it, no problem. You know you can always tell me if something’s wrong. Maybe you don’t think so, but I do know how to keep a secret.”