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Millions of lights twinkled on and off in the distance, looking for all the world like a giant fireflit convention. It was a beautiful night, especially this far from those glimmering city lights. One could actually look up and see the stars, the dozens of constellations and the bright red orb that was the sister planet he’d seen in the sky since he was a child.
Roy Baket took a deep breath of the country air, letting it out slowly. He'd always wanted to visit Jaynus. The red planet was a lot harsher than its twin but was certainly still livable. Jaynians, as they were called, looked down on what they considered the plush lifestyle led by those on Janus. While Jaynus was often plagued by sandstorms and giant, hemisphere-spanning thunderstorms, Janus was much calmer and more temperate. They were twin planets, it was true, but there couldn't have been a greater difference between them.
Roy leaned forward on the railing, taking a sip from his Xix Liquor. It really was a lovely view with Jaynus slowly rising from the north while the sun finally disappeared from sight in the southwest. Off in front of him sat Tiara City, the largest city in the entire Augustine Star Province. Tonight he would walk down the same paths he had walked as a child. Tonight he would see the same buildings he had seen while growing up. But tonight he would do something very different. Tonight he would go into a building he had never been old enough to visit, back then.
For tonight was the time of the Grand Tiara Tournament. It was held at the Alcazar, the largest drinking and gambling establishment in the closest three systems.
When he'd left Janus he’d been four years away from being able to enter the Alcazar. He had never come back, not in the long thirty years that had passed. He'd had his reasons and they weren’t any different after three decades.
But tonight he was going to have to put away all the bitterness and hatred. Tonight, he was going to waltz into the Alcazar as if he owned the place and he was going to play like it was his last hand.
Which it probably would be. Roy downed the rest of his drink and pulled on his coat. One way or another, tonight was going to be a night to remember.
The streets were packed with people and Pulsers going in every direction. As the largest city in a collection that boasted two dozen worlds, Tiara got more than its fair share of visitors. It was impossible to go anywhere in the city without encountering a crowd.
There were at least eight uniformed police officers in view as Roy neared the Alcazar. Swallowing against a sudden lump in his throat, he inserted himself into the line that was streaming into the entrance.
He came up to the security barricade and presented his identification to the guard. The man pushed it into the scanner with an uninterested grunt. When the machine started beeping, however, he suddenly became a whole lot more involved.
He pulled out Roy's identification and looked at the screen. Roy knew exactly what it said, of course. He'd read it more times that he cared to count.
The officer turned around and stared. "Roy Baket?"
"Hello Jayke. Been awhile."
Jayke Delahyme's mouth hung open. "It's been...but you...I can't just...we used to..."
He shook his head suddenly as if clearing it. "I'm sorry, Roy, old times or not I'm going to have to take you in." He pulled out his stun cuffs and stepped forward.
"Can’t do that, Jayke. Statute of limitations is fifteen years from the issue. That means it ended a long time ago."
Jayke hesitated. "Even for arson?"
"Murder and sexual assault are the only statutes that don’t expire. Most others would have ended eight years before mine did. Didn't you know that? Or are you new on the force?"
Jayke grimaced. "Temp work; they needed extra hands for tonight. Well, I guess I'm going to have to let you go in. But... you aren't here tonight because of..."
He trailed off as if afraid to finish. Roy hesitated a second himself before answering.
"What I'm here for, Jayke," he said quietly, "is to play some cards."
"I hope for your sake that's all you do tonight, Roy. Even if half the force here remembers you fondly they aren't going to stand by and let you get away with anything."
Roy held out his hands in a defenseless posture. "I just want to play cards. Really. May I enter? I need a drink.”
Jayke stood to the side and opened the gate. "Good to see you again, Roy. Please observe the laws of the Alcazar and I hope you enjoy your evening."
Roy's hands were shaking as he neared the bar. He'd spotted Jayke standing at the barricade from halfway down the stairs but he'd hoped his old friend wouldn't remember him. If it hadn't been for the automatic marking of all past crimes he'd have been able to walk in unnoticed. Now he was sure that Jayke would spread the word and that extra attention would be paid to his doings.
It took a drink and a half before he was able to notice the foyer where he was standing. He remembered when he was growing up... the Alcazar had always been the place that every kid couldn't wait to be old enough to enter. Every adult he'd ever met had billed the Alcazar as the most amazing cantina casino they'd ever seen.
Roy had been to probably a hundred bars, cantinas, and casinos since leaving Janus. If he had taken all of them and combined them into one they still wouldn't have matched what he was looking at right now.
The entrance foyer was designed to move you right past the bar area, as it was a large oval shape with the bar in the middle. Like almost every casino bar in the frontier worlds this one had a large 'shed' surrounded by mixing equipment and a waist-high bar in a full circle. Opposite the entrance, impossible to see until you moved around the bar, were the doorways that led to the various dining and gambling rooms.
It wasn't the layout that impressed him, however; it was the sheer grandeur. The foyer ceiling was a dome that appeared to be fifty feet above the floor, with the largest chandelier he’d ever seen dangling all the way down into the bar's mixing area. What made it unique was the fact that all of the bar's fresh water came in over the chandelier, which doubled as a waterfall feature. A hundred tiny lights were submerged in the waterfall, giving off a tranquil and almost hypnotic caustic effect all over the room.
He swiveled around in his soft bar stool and admired the crystal mural that made up the entire wall decoration. It seemed to be an abstract rendition of the night sky as visible from the Alcazar's famed upper balcony. Whatever it was, it had probably cost a small fortune. Shipping costs alone for the sheer amount of crystals involved had to have cost as much as the building itself.
He glanced at his Pertier’s watch. It was almost time for the tournament to start. He finished off his drink, placed the ornate goblet on the table, and walked slowly around the bar toward the main casino floor. The layout was a maze, as is usual for casinos, but situated off to either side of the entrance was a large door marked Fast Track: Tournament Room. That was where he was heading.
He stepped into line behind the stream of other people who were also going toward the Fast Track. Roy expected a major traffic jam but the designers of the Alcazar had anticipated such a crowd and had installed a set of eight moving sidewalks, four going toward the tournament room and four moving away. At the moment the number was reduced to two going away and the other six going toward the tournament room.
It was only a matter of minutes, really, before he got off the moving sidewalk and entered the Tournament Room, which was unofficially known as the Crystal Room. It was a bit of a disappointment in style compared to the foyer but it was still several leagues above any other casino he had visited. There were at least seven hundred tables scattered about the room at various levels and each one had a unique crystal chandelier above it. Almost all of the tables were already at maximum capacity, full of gamblers eager and ready to begin.
To enter the tournament room required another pass through a security barricade. Roy wasn't even ten people away from the barricade when he noticed the guards keeping an eye on him. Great, he thought, rolling his eyes. Just what I need.
To his surprise the
re weren’t any problems when it was finally his turn. The guard simply pointed him toward the Chip Dispenser, handed him a card with a table and seat number, and told him to mind the playing rules.
And that was that. No frisking, no vague warnings, no threatening. It was nice. Roy walked over to the Chip Dispenser, pulled out his 'RinCard, and slid it in. Two million 'Rins worth of chips went into his right jacket pocket. He glanced at his seat and table numbers, walked over, and sat down at the table with three other men dressed as impeccably as he was.
"Welcome to table Six Hundred Eleven," the man seated to his right said with a smile. "Sajjev." He pointed to the man next to him. "This is John and this is Leht."
"Call me Roy," he replied, smiling slightly. "Nice place here."
John raised his eyebrows. "Never been here before?" he asked, his accent marking him as a local. "I've been coming here for eleven years."
"Nine years," Leht said.
"Six years here," Sajjev chimed in. "Greatest casino in the Worlds."
"Wouldn't know," Roy replied. "I just want to play some cards."
"And play you will. It'll only be a few minutes now. Most of the tables are already full."
Sure enough, less then ten minutes later a voice boomed across the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the sixty-fifth annual Grand Tiara Tournament!"
Cheers, whistles, and applause erupted from the regular participants. Roy simply sat back and smiled.
"Starting tonight's events will be an elimination round of California Pyramid, five thousand 'Rins. Minimum bid of fifty, maximum quad bet. Last man standing."
Roy and the men at his table all pulled out five thousand 'Rins worth of chips just as the middle of the table opened up. Out came a deck of cards, the four-sided-die tumbler, and a dealer marker. The dealer marker came out on the side of Leht, so he shuffled the deck as the players paid an ante of twenty-five 'Rins. Leht dealt out the cards, and the games began.
At the end of nearly an hour, Roy was the last man standing. John had been the final opponent and Roy felt almost bad about beating him. They'd all been excellent sports, however, and John wished Roy luck as he left. He was probably heading for the restaurant.
Roy placed the deck of cards and the dealer marker in the middle of the table near the dice tumbler and watched as they disappeared. A few minutes later the last of the tables finished their rounds. The maitre d' announced that there would be a ten minute intermission to sample the appetizers and then all survivors would meet again and be assigned to new tables.
He stood up and walked slowly toward a random spot on the wall, his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes scanning the crowd. A large portion of the people were leaving already, having suffered from the first-round elimination. They'd drink out their sorrows in the bar areas and would probably turn to the regular gambling areas to get their fix. The first-round elimination was something Roy wasn't particularly fond of, but the Grand Tiara Tournament was famous for a brutal opening followed by a more relaxed setting.
It did accomplish one thing, of course... it got rid of the casual and unlucky players early, making sure that everybody in for the later rounds played like they meant it. All in all it wasn't too bad a tradeoff, he guessed. It would have been a nasty state if there was a cover charge to get into the tournament.
Roy decided to forego the appetizers and remain leaning against the wall. It afforded a great view of the many people. Even though the first round was last man standing there were still more people than he’d ever seen in a single tournament. Would certainly make things interesting.
The ten minutes were up and the maitre d' instructed everyone to head for the center of the room to acquire their new seat assignments. Obediently the crowd moved, Roy right along with them. His new seat was much closer to the middle this time and he found it easily.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the maitre d' intoned solemnly. "Please be sure that you are seated, as it is time for the Ascension to Cloud One."
His three table companions finally showed up, moving quickly so as not to miss this, one of the most famous of the Grand Tiara Tournament's traditions. Roy had heard of it, of course. Just about everyone who'd ever heard of the Grand Tiaras had heard of the Ascension.
The barricades went up in a sweeping circle around the edge of the furthest occupied tables, leaving a large ring of unoccupied seats outside of the barrier. A chorus sounded throughout the room and the lights dimmed slightly as the ceiling slid open. A split second later the large circle of the floor they were on started to rise.
It brought a smile to Roy's face. As the floor finally stopped, twenty feet higher from where they had been, he looked around. The rising floor had brought them into a new room segment, one that had been blocked from view by the ceiling. It was decorated a completely different way and the chandeliers were all new as well.
The three others at his table, two women and a man, appeared unfazed by the move. Considering the fact that they'd made it this far, Roy assumed that they were regulars.
"Cloud One will feature Double Elimination Two-Twenty-Two," the Maitre 'd announced. "Let the games begin."
Roy grimaced slightly. Two-Twenty-Two wasn't his strongest game. He'd spent three decades gambling and could honestly claim to be one of the best, but a Double Elimination Two-Twenty-Two meant he'd have to play better than at least two of the three people with him. Only the two best continued in a Double Elimination.
"Not fond of Two-Twenty-Two?" one of the women stated, her bright turquoise eyes scanning his face. She'd obviously caught his grimace.
"Afraid it's not my strongest showing," he admitted. "At least I made it to Cloud One."
The man, a weasely looking sort, laughed out loud. "Cloud One is kreecake. Cloud Three, on the other hand, is not. Been there twice."
Both of the women rolled their eyes and Roy felt a strong temptation to do the same himself. The same woman who had addressed him, the one with pretty turquoise eyes, smiled sweetly at the little man. "Cloud Five is much nicer than Three," she said simply. The little weasel man promptly shut up as she took the deck of cards, shuffled it expertly, and dealt the five cards out.
Two-Twenty-Two was a strange mixture of Baj Natek Poker and Blackjack. Five cards were dealt, and like Baj Natek you were to separate them into two hands, one of three and the other of two. In Two-Twenty-Two, however, the purpose of the 'high' and 'low' hands was not to come out with a better poker hand but rather to come out with the closest to twenty-two. It was an odd game with some odd betting rules and although it wasn’t his strongest game Roy rather liked it.
The time passed quickly, with fortunes raging back and forth between the four contestants. Twice in a row Roy had a hand he was sure would win only to come crashing down and lose a heap of ‘Rins on the deal. It was quickly becoming apparent that the woman with turquoise eyes and the little weasel man would be the two that would be advancing to the next cloud, and something deep inside of Roy snapped. He absolutely had to make to the top cloud. It was the sole reason he had come. Gritting his teeth with determination he turned his mind solely over to winning.
His mind began working feverishly, calculating odds and bet percentages, and he began taking risks he normally wouldn’t. Slowly but surely Lady Luck began to smile upon him. The others at the table, especially the weasel man, were sitting up straighter now, suddenly aware of the new threat in their midst.
A particularly nasty hand was dealt and Roy fought the urge to rub his eyes in frustration. He was still trailing the other three and if he didn’t pick up the slack he would soon be eliminated. Cornered by a high bet and reckless, he matched the wager and slammed his hand down on the table, knowing as he did that he had lost.
Sure enough, weasel man had a perfect Twenty-Two, entitling him to double the bet. That meant Roy was finished. It was over. He looked up and gazed into the eyes of his conqueror. The little man was smug and completely sure of himself. Shaking his head, Roy started to push all of his chips towar
d the center of the table when a large beefy arm stopped him.
He looked up, startled. A positively huge man, six foot eight at the least and most likely three hundred and fifty pounds, had somehow materialized at their table. Without a word he reached over and wrenched weasel man out of his chair. Striding over to the edge of the gaming floor he promptly tossed the little man over the edge of the railing.
The shock had barely set in when another man, much smaller and immaculately dressed, showed up. “Your tablemate has been caught cheating. As this was double elimination his proceeds will be divided among the three of you, and all of you will be advancing to Cloud Two. You may snack or play among yourselves. However, there will be no more betting at this table.”
A bot appeared at the man’s elbow and scooped up the chips that had belonged to the cheater and within a minute he had distributed the evenly divided amount to the three remaining players.
“Well that was fun,” the woman with turquoise eyes said. “I didn’t quite trust him.”
“Me neither,” Roy responded, heaving a sigh of relief. He’d come this close to being eliminated from the tournament altogether... “Well at least we’ll have something to talk about. My name’s Roy Baket. It was a lovely game while it lasted.”
The other woman smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Penalope Wons. You sure lit a fire under yourself toward the end there. I was afraid I’d be the first eliminated.”
“I agree with the fire,” the woman with turquoise eyes said, offering her hand for a handshake after Roy had greeted Penalope. “I’m Lynda Freohn, and you turned into the most motivated player I think I’ve ever seen.”
Roy’s smile faded, despite the fact he was shaking the hand of the third prettiest gambler woman he’d ever met. “Yes, well... I’d really like to reach the upper echelons.”
The two women nodded. “It is quite the incentive, isn’t it?” Lynda asked, her smile still in place. “I can guarantee that if you keep that spark with you, you’ll make it far. But come...it appears that the other tables aren’t even close to finishing. What say we get a drink, a snack, and then practice our Two-Twenty-Two skills to pass the time?”
His smile returned. “I’d like that.”
The night passed quickly enough. Clouds Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and Seven were each on a smaller circle of the floor, and each level they raised to was another twenty feet above the one before. Not only that, but each new alcove was even more exquisite. They ranged from dramatic recreations of the ice fields of New Mercury to the current, Cloud Eight, which had a stunning rendition of the jungles of Kellossia, where the BlackJack’s famed biological works were manifest.
On Clouds Four and Six Roy had been at the same table as Lynda and both times the younger woman had trounced him thoroughly. Thankfully, both cases had been a Double-Elimination and he had been able to advance to the next Cloud regardless. With each new round the battle to stay on top grew more vicious. Two more cheaters had been tossed over the edge since the first man and the last had been stupid enough to try it on Cloud Five. Roy was certain that if the man had survived the hundred foot drop he wouldn’t be in a position to be cheating anytime soon.
There wouldn’t be any more cheating here, that was for sure... it would be an instant death sentence. But more than that, all of those present recognized what they had achieved... win or lose, each of them had made it past Cloud Six, where so few had ever trodden before. They would have a story to tell, and better yet, all those that had survived past Cloud Seven would receive a special diamond commemoration statue and access to the coveted Heaven Reachers club, which offered discounts at just about every casino, bar or cantina in the Frontier Worlds. Roy, now leading the pack in Mercs on Cloud Eight, was merely a few minutes away from gaining access to the even more sought-after Empyrean Club, which was essentially the Heaven Reachers club but with more benefits, including discounts and free stays at some of the best resorts that only the richest ever made it to. Rumors had it that those of the Empyrean Club could even rub shoulders with a Baron or two. Acolytes or Militates only, of course, but a Baron was still a Baron to the social elite.
A feral grin spread across Roy’s face despite his best efforts to keep a poker face and he doubled the bet on the table. Two of the five remaining people folded immediately, giving up sizable portions of the last of their Patriniums. The other three made small but significant twitches that told Roy everything he needed to know: one was too proud to back out now, one thought Roy was bluffing, and the third was supremely confident in his hand. He was the one Roy had to worry about, but was ninety-five percent certain that the other wasn’t holding anything higher than a Broadside, with a five percent possibility that he was holding a Quad.
The betting continued for another few minutes, Roy managing to play cautious and drag even higher bets out of the three. He was certain for a moment that the prideful player wouldn’t touch the final bet, but an offhand comment by one of the other betters made him match and Roy called. The man who thought Roy had been bluffing was holding a low Broadside, the man who had been too prideful had a respectable high-end Link, and the supremely confident man had a Quad of Tens.
Roy whistled, nodding. He would have bet that there was only a five percent chance of that. In fact, he had bet on that five percent. Either way, it didn’t matter. He laid down his cards, the most sweet of sensations coursing through his veins as the others’ eyes grew wider. “Alpha Shiv Link,” he announced triumphantly, eyeing the Baron, Kingpin and Crimelord of Shivs that completed the Hitman and Ten of Shivs already on the table.
“Without cheating, and without a Merc Card either,” one of the men who had folded said softly, his voice and face awestruck. Roy himself couldn’t believe it. He’d seen Alpha Links in his time, of course, but he’d only once seen an Alpha Shiv Link, the highest of card suits, and that had been with a Merc card.
The players were good sports about it as he raked in his earnings, all of them feeling a sting at losing so much, but also feeling a bit of pride at having been witness to the rarest hand a Merc game could possibly produce. They had made it to Cloud Eight and it had taken an Alpha Shiv Link to finish them off. It was a story they could tell for decades to come.
And it had finished them off. None of the players could afford much more than the next game’s ante. If he wanted to, Roy could steamroll his way through any of the last hands, and the others knew it. They decided to quit while they still had some money left. After all, they were Heaven Reachers now and at least one of them was a Twice Heaven Reacher. As Roy shook hands with the men, he realized that it was partly a desire to leave while they still had cash, but it was also a sort of tip of the hat to the man who’d been so blessed by Lady Luck as to have acquired a non-Merced Alpha Shiv Link. A tip of the hat and perhaps a healthy superstitious fear. Better to leave while they still could.
He sat back down in his chair and watched as his assistant bot moved in to stack and count his earnings. That particular luxury had been available since making it to Cloud Six. Then there had been maybe two hundred winners. Now, the trip to Cloud Nine would have less than a fourth of that. The immaculately dressed man who had informed Roy earlier that they had been playing with a cheater returned. “Congratulations on making it to Cloud Nine. More importantly, welcome to the Pure Alpha Shiv Link Association. A special picture will be taken. If you’ll come with me, please?”
Roy stood up, a bit sandblasted. “There’s a whole association for it?”
The man looked over his shoulder with a smile. “It was developed a couple years ago. Only those who have acquired the rarified Pure Alpha Shiv Link are inducted into the PASLA. Even those of the Empyrean Club bow to the PASLA. You will be a member of both and I can guarantee that not a single gambling establishment will ever charge you for drinks again. You are now on a social level that is just below that of a Baron or a Crimelord.”
Roy smiled as his special hololaser picture was taken and he accepted the engraved Mantroc
card, which weighed far more than anything of that size had any right weighing. He returned to the gaming arena just as the Maitre d’ was announcing that the Final Ascension would be taking place in ten minutes. Roy accepted his new seat placement from his assistant bot, who also informed him that he had thirty three point eight million Patriniums for the final tournament. Two million had become thirty million, and the grand prize of the tournament was a hefty fifty million ‘Rins, along with instant access to the Grand Tiara Champion Company. It was all about clubs and associations and companies for the upper class, Roy realized suddenly. He’d never been upper class. He’d been rich from his gambling prowess for awhile now but he’d never made the transition into upper crust society.
He sat down at one of the inner tables and was pleasantly surprised when Lynda Freohn sat down next to him. “I see we both made it to the Empyrean Club for the first time tonight,” she said, a sparkle in her eyes that made them even more pretty.
“Indeed,” he responded, and sat back in his chair as the announcer spoke up.
“Final Ascension in three... two... one.”
A particularly grand collection of organ pipes, arachnaphones, choir voices and other instruments came from the speakers, reverberating across the entire game floor. There wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that they were going to something special, and as the floor rose above the simulated jungles of Kellossia, Roy wondered what all the fuss was about. But then the floor sped up and the walls blurred into a uniform gold color, and he felt his eyebrows rising quizzically. Then the floor slowed and Roy was rendered speechless for the first time in his life. The floor had locked into place before his mind caught up with what he was seeing.
They were sitting on top of the Alcazar, on top of a particularly long and unadorned tower that many people had questioned. Estimates had placed the height at just over nine hundred feet, and with his current view Roy had no doubt at all about that. It was completely dark immediately under their feet, with only the tables lit, and the entire city of Tiara lay around them, glittering like its namesake in the night. Jaynus was directly above them, majestically shining its soft red light upon the world. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, and that alone was as much of a marvel as the whole setting... this high up there would be high-speed winds, but some kind of barrier was in place to keep it down to a simple breeze. A simple breeze that still carried on it the smell of the grasslands, forests, and rivers that surrounded the city.
“So romantic,” a voice murmured from his side, and he turned to see Lynda staring at him. The soft lighting from the tables would be more than enough to play in, more than enough to gauge each other’s faces, and he was seeing something in Lynda’s face that he hadn’t seen for a very long time. It really was a romantic place..
“Welcome to Cloud Nine, the Empyrean. Please remember to stay seated, even after you have been defeated. The sonic barrier is designed to keep the sounds and high-speed winds of Tiara from penetrating, but the only thing keeping you from a nine hundred foot drop is the barrier. If you require restroom services, make your way to the lighted post where the guards are standing and we will arrange to transport you below. Otherwise, enjoy your final two tournaments. Mercs, Double Elimination, minimum five thousand bid, no maximum.”
Roy reached over and gripped Lynda’s hand. “Play to beat me, Miss Freohn. Winner buys dinner.”
She laughed and gripped his hand back before turning her full attention to the game at hand. Roy did the same.
Or at least he tried to. Sitting only two tables away was the sole reason he had come to the Alcazar. Bitter memories of so many lifetimes ago welled up in front of his eyes.
He choked down the memories, but as he played the game, he could almost see the ghosts of his past dancing about in the city below. Mocking him.
He didn’t even notice when he won. He simply let his assistant bot rake in his ‘Rins and prepared his mind for the next hand. It continued like this for nearly an hour, as person after person fell to his calculated strategies and his sheer backing by Miss Luck. In the end the Double Elimination left him the undisputed winner, with Lynda in second. It was the only time he’d beaten her tonight, but even that failed to penetrate the fog that had enveloped his mind like the mist that was settling over the rivers so very far below.
The next round was last man standing, down to two final tables. Once again Lynda was seated with him and once again the object of his hatred was not. Slowly but surely Roy hounded the other players, taking their money in small or large batches, showing no mercy, taking no risks that were too large. Slowly but surely he ground Lynda into the ground. In the end he stood alone at the table, having defeated everyone else, including Lynda. The players had spoken little. They’d picked up on his mood and had played their best, but there was going to be nothing that stopped him tonight.
The Maitre ‘d announced him as the winner at table two, and Lord Dwight Asuner as the winner at table one. The two would face each other for a final battle of cards in the middle table, the one table that had not been used yet.
So they sat facing each other, exchanged pleasantries that were extremely strained on Roy’s part. After that, the cards were dealt and everything else in the universe ceased to be important. His mind turned to autopilot and he played the game like he had before, calculating odds and strategies at lightspeed. He played ruthlessly, without mercy or any joy of playing. He became a gambling machine, as he had become twenty-six years ago, learning every trick of the trade and every nuance of character as fast as he could, logging it all away into his memory in preparation for one night he knew would come...one fine night of revenge. Tears came unbidden to his eyes on several occasions as the ghosts appeared to come up from the city and dance on the table behind his opponent. He choked past the lump in his throat and played, played like it was the game to end all games.
And it was. With forty million ‘Rins on the table he laid down the cards, knowing in his heart that he was triumphant, knowing that this Broadside of Barons and Eights had to beat Lord Asuner. He smiled the smile of the just, the smile of those who have enacted sweet, sweet revenge upon their enemies.
And the smile vanished as Lord Asuner laid down his cards. One, two, three... four eights. A Quad. Roy had lost.
A million ounces of fury pounded into him. There was no way he could recover from a loss this large and the ghosts of his past sneered in his face as his mortal enemy chuckled, unaware of the sheer sledgehammer he had just dropped.
“You played well,” his opponent said. “Very well. Perhaps we can meet again, or at the Empyrean Club sometime?”
Roy was still staring at the cards, blood washing over them in his fevered and troubled imagination. He looked up slowly and he knew that his face was paler than death itself.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked harshly, his voice low and cold
Lord Asuner appeared quizzical, but Roy continued. “No, of course you don’t. It was nearly thirty years ago and you wouldn’t remember a fly that you had crushed under your boot. Allow me to introduce myself, Lord Dwight Asuner: I am Roy Allen Baket.”
A shock of recognition flashed across the Lord’s face. “Baket?” he asked, a horrified tone making its way into his voice.
But Roy didn’t care. “Yes, Baket, as in Justyn Allen Baket, the man with the compulsive gambling addiction. The man who you knew had a compulsive gambling addiction. The man who you proceeded to grind into the ground and take every last ‘Rin he’d ever possessed. The man who wound up hanging himself from the limb of a tree in the yard because you’d broken him and rendered him unable to take care of his family.”
Asuner snorted, his face showing obviously that he was going to try and talk his way out of this. “You already extracted your inch of flesh for that, kid, thirty years ago. We’re even.”
“Inch of flesh?!” Roy bellowed, his voice sounding oddly distant as the blood pounded in his ears. “I burned down your ill-gotten mansion and you call us even?! I
found my father’s body on that tree limb!”
And with that admission Roy snapped. Not the beautiful view, not the fact that he was in the Empyrean Club, the Pure Alpha Shiv Link Association... not even the beautiful Lynda entered into his mind to stop him. In one smooth motion he was out of his chair and had two fistfuls of Asuner’s shirt. Before anyone could react he threw himself and his mortal enemy over the edge, his scream echoing strangely in the quiet night air.
It was a long nine hundred feet to the ground below, and long before the bottom the ghosts of his past had quietly slipped away. The end game had been worth it, after all.
Vagabonds
Author’s Note
Only the Barons know the full secret of Patriniums, the currency of the Frontier Worlds. Here is what the general public is aware of: Kanjer Machines, also known by the codename Thunderbolts, convert any matter into energy. That energy is then compressed into a suspended (inert) form of exchange (money) commonly known as ‘Rins. ‘Rins exist in two primary physical forms: coins in the shape of a rounded equilateral triangle or as a rechargeable mini-card known as a ‘Rincard. Digital transfers of money are generally frowned upon unless you’re really rich and credit does not exist. In many ways the Frontier Worlds closely resembles the United States’ Old West period of history: money is carried on your person and is carted between the worlds in heavily guarded convoys. On the other hand, the value of Patriniums is standardized by the Barons and inflation has never occurred.
On a personal note, this short story has existed in an incomplete form in my mind for longer than any other and it is a relief to finally have it finished and readable. I hope you enjoy it!
The Frontier Archives: Series 1 Page 2
