Canto Bight [Star Wars]

by Saladin Ahmed

  “See?” Thodi said. “I told you.”

  Orisha glared. Not at him but the Suertons. “I’m not sure I want them here.”

  Kal shrugged innocently. “Surely you don’t want all these people to think the great Orisha Okum is superstitious.”

  She glowered at him—and brought over two hundred thousand in Cantocoins out of her seemingly bottomless satchel. “Again,” she said, sorting through her side deck for different ammunition.

  The next sequence for Kal was nerve racking. She kept hitting the board with one specialty card after another, transforming positive-number cards on both sides of the table to negative ones, and vice versa; basic arithmetic had seldom been so trying. She reached nineteen and stood, only to have him draw a two from the table deck, hopping over her to victory.

  The crowd roared. Orisha stared first at Kal, and then the brothers. “People around here talk about you three, but I’ve never believed it.”

  “Do they say we’re charming?” Thodi asked.

  Orisha smoldered.

  “Don’t quit now,” Kal said. Timepieces were forbidden in the casino, but he didn’t need one. “I’m sure it’s almost sunrise. Double or nothing for the whole bill,” he added. Kal didn’t want to face her again—but he doubted anyone else in the room would take a four-hundred-thousand bet, not at this hour. He gestured to his mountain of coinage. “You don’t need to bring anything out. If I win, your associate gets this, and you pay the other half.”

  “Most of that is mine,” Orisha said.

  “Was yours.”

  She glared at him. “No,” she said. She reached around the back of her neck and undid a chain. She pulled it, and a large locket, from beneath her jacket. She snapped the locket open and placed a shining coin on the table.

  “That’s half a million Cantocoins,” she said. The audience swooned. “My prize from the last Savareen whist tournament.”

  “You just carry it around?”

  “The things we love,” she said, sorting through her side deck looking for cards. “I’ll want change.”

  “Surely,” Minn said, nervously counting out a hundred thousand from the pot to return to Orisha.

  “You keep handling these big sums, Minn, and they’ll move you to the high-roller room,” Kal said.

  Orisha took her first card. A five, which she doubled to a ten with a special card.

  Ouch, Kal thought. She was halfway home before he played a card. “Wish me luck,” he said to Dodi.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  “Me too,” Thodi said.

  Kal waited for a moment—and hearing nothing from Wodi, looked around. “Oh, no. Where’s Wodi?”

  Dodi and Thodi looked at each other. “He was here a minute ago.”

  Kal put down his side deck and lifted his hands. “Things don’t go well when it’s just the two of you.”

  “One of us could go looking for him,” Thodi said.

  “And you’ll probably buy me another fathier.” He shook his head. I’ll just have to do this with the brothers I’ve got!

  “WHAT’S THE HOLDUP?” ORISHA DEMANDED.

  “Nothing.” Kal gestured for Minn to deal. She gave him a three, which he made a nine with one of Thodi’s ubiquitous plus-sixes. He was an underdog now, behind ten to nine.

  Minn dealt a three to Orisha, for thirteen. The champion thought long and hard before passing. That led to Kal drawing a four, also bringing him to thirteen.

  “A perilous number,” Thodi said, and was right for a change.

  “Have to do it.” Kal played a plus-six from his side deck and made nineteen. “I stand.”

  The audience rumbled with anticipation. A coy smile developing, Orisha motioned for Minn to deal.

  “Four,” said Minn. The crowd roared.

  Vestry called for quiet. “Player is at seventeen. Will you alter the score?”

  “Thanks for the game, Kal, but there are amateurs and there are champs.” She raised a card from her hand. “And I am still the—”

  “I’m back!” Wodi called, bursting from the crowd, plate in hand. “And I was right. They’re serving flatcakes at the buffet!” Orisha stood frozen, card still in hand, as he intruded on her moment. “Where’s that waiter with the drinks?”

  “Here, sir,” Ganzer said, appearing with his tray on Orisha’s right. He started to pass behind her—only to find Wodi heading toward him at the same time. Wodi stubbed his foot at the back of Orisha’s chair, making him lurch forward toward Ganzer. The two collided loudly, causing Ganzer’s tray, assorted drinks, and some of the most delicious Trandoshani flatcakes and sautéed fruit in the known galaxy to go airborne. Liquor and foodstuffs raining on her, Orisha kicked her chair backward—and over, throwing her onto Wodi.

  “Oh, dear,” Vestry called. “Help her!”

  Wodi grabbed Orisha’s sleeve, trying to help her up. She wrested away. “Let go, moron!” She was covered with stains from the breakfast food—but seemingly more concerned about something else. She started reaching around on the floor. “Where did it go?”

  “What?” Wodi asked.

  She didn’t answer, but continued her furtive search. Nearby, Ganzer pulled something from a puddle. “I have it,” he said, lifting a soaked pazaak card.

  Orisha spotted it. “Give me that,” she demanded, but was still tangled with Wodi.

  “It’s all right,” Ganzer said, rubbing the card with his fingers. “I can wipe it—”

  He paused. Kal, mesmerized, asked, “What is it, Ganz?”

  “I think you should see this,” Ganzer said, beckoning to Vestry.

  She took the card from him and studied it. A long, white thumb swept against the number on the card’s face. A number that changed—from plus-three to plus-two to plus-one. “It’s like a sabacc card,” she said.

  “A trick card,” Ganzer said, forgetting his fallen drinks. “She can change its value to win the game!”

  Orisha reached for it. “What do you know? You’re just a waiter.”

  “Bartender,” Ganzer said.

  “Yes,” Vestry acknowledged, “and one we allow to work the card room floor because he has long experience in spotting cheats and their devices.” She shook her head. “You cannot use this card, Mistress Okum.”

  Orisha turned back to the table. “Then something else from my side deck.”

  “You can’t bring a new card in. The game has started.” Vestry’s eyes narrowed. “And I wouldn’t trust any other card you brought in.”

  “Then I refuse to continue,” Orisha said, reaching for her card case. “This is a friendly game, not one managed by the casino. You’re not refereeing, just hosting.” She pointed at the pot. “I’ll take my half back. And Kal,” she said, looking daggers at him, “we’ll see you shortly.”

  The room buzzed loudly with cross talk. But Kal only heard one word, from over his shoulder. “Play,” Dodi said.

  “What?”

  “Let her play the card.”

  “Didn’t you see it? She dials up a plus-three and wins!”

  “I see a card that hasn’t been played yet,” Dodi said. “It’s just a game.”

  “It’s my life!”

  “Ride.”

  Orisha was halfway across the table, clawing for chips, when Kal spoke up. “She can play it,” he said.

  She glared at him. “What?”

  “She can play it,” Kal called out, getting Vestry’s attention.

  Vestry waved the trick card. “I told you, the card is illegal.”

  “It’s a game between us. I can choose to accept the card,” he said. He looked to Orisha, who was backing up, puzzled. “If I let you play the card, will you accept the result—before everyone here?”

  Orisha looked about. Money had been on the line; now her career and credibility were in question. But as Kal knew, those already were. She straightened herself and brushed her clothing. “Yes, I’ll accept it. And very sporting of you to reject this silly claim.”

  Ganze
r stared at Kal. “Don’t you understand? If she plays that card, you’ll lose.”

  “I understand. It’s my risk, my decision.” He looked around to the Suerton trio. “It’s only a game. Right?”

  “Right!”

  “All right,” Vestry said, shaking her head and reluctantly surrendering the card to Orisha.

  “Thank you,” Orisha said, quickly taking the soggy card in her hand and dabbing at it in the way Vestry had demonstrated the card’s value could be changed. Satisfied, she loomed over the table and spoke quickly, anxious to be done. “Kal stood at nineteen. To my seventeen, I add…” She slapped the card down and removed her hand. The card read:

  +333

  “Plus three thirty-three?” Orisha gawked at her own card. “Plus three thirty-three?”

  Ganzer gawked, astonished. “The card must have malfunctioned after the spill!”

  Minn stared at it. “That’s not even a value in pazaak, is it?”

  “It is not,” Vestry said. “Which means the card is illegal.”

  “It already was illegal,” Ganzer said. Smiling broadly, he pointed to Kal. “But he allowed it—and that makes it legal.”

  “That’s—that’s not right!” Orisha sputtered.

  Vestry chuckled in spite of herself. “It’s absolutely right.” She slapped her hand on the table. “He allowed the card, you agreed to the result. Player busts with the unreal score of three hundred fifty!”

  Never in Kal’s recollection had there been such a clamor in the card room—and certainly not at this time of the morning. Orisha grabbed her satchel but abandoned her cards, fleeing into the crowd.

  “Eight hundred thousand plus,” Thodi said, shaking Kal’s collar. “You did it!”

  “Dealers,” Vestry called out to her students over the din, “I don’t want you to think this is a routine morning.”

  There’s no chance of that! Kal looked to Wodi, who smiled goofily and raised an empty glass—and then to Dodi, who asked, “Having fun yet?”

  Kal grinned. “Getting there.”

  “WELL, HELLO! LOOK WHO’S BACK,” Kal said, looking smart in his new cape and cravat as he stood next to the zinbiddle table. “It’s Tezzie and Rooth.”

  “Master Sonmi! So nice to see you,” bubbled blue-faced Tezzie, whom he now knew to be a construction heiress and grandmother of three.

  “Thank you so much for your help this afternoon,” said Rooth from the adjacent chair. He’d referred the tree-like woman, whose fortune was in fertilizer, to the spa. “Those mobility treatments were just what I needed.”

  “Working rather well, I’d say,” he said, taking her branch in his hand. Her leaves fluttered in the Yarin equivalent of a blush. He looked to their companion, at Rooth’s right. “And who is this lovely person?”

  Tezzie tittered. “My sister, in from Pantora. I was hoping you could teach her pazaak like you taught us.”

  “Of course,” Kal said. “I have a class after the first dinner serving tomorrow. And don’t you worry about those reservations.” He put a white-gloved finger to his temple. “It’s all handled.”

  “He’s so wonderful,” Rooth said. “See you around the casino!”

  “Good luck,” Kal said as they returned to their game. He meant it. Cantonica hadn’t changed, but it was a different world for him now, and had been since the big game ended.

  Mosep Binneed had appeared soon after the win, posing as just another businessman in the congratulatory crowd. His contacts with the casino’s surveillance team were such that he already knew not only about Kal’s big win, but also about Orisha’s decision to play, potentially taking money for herself that should have gone to Ganna. The accountant accepted his eight hundred thousand and declared their business was at an end, returning the title to Kal’s starship before departing.

  As it turned out, his ship was, at that moment, already gone. Orisha, exposed as a cheat and ruined as a tournament player, had fled in it, using access codes she’d gotten from Mosep’s office. If she couldn’t win tournaments for Ganna, she wasn’t of much use to him. Kal wondered how many of her millions were actually left, if she was trying to play Kal to enrich herself. Was she looking for getaway money? Whatever, he was certain she would find herself in Kal’s old line, roaming the galaxy’s card rooms as an itinerant gambler. He’d kept her bogus “333” card, frozen in its malfunctioned state, as a souvenir.

  That was all he’d kept from the big payday. He’d been left with nearly twenty thousand coins after paying his debt to Mosep; Dodi had suggested giving it all to Minn, topping what the brothers had given her the night before as the biggest tip a rookie dealer had ever received. Kal, past questioning Dodi, had complied—to his ultimate benefit, as he learned on reporting to the casino offices to finalize his severance. Unbeknownst to Kal, Minn’s mother had just joined the staff as the new director of hospitality—and her first act was to hire the pazaak hero as a floorwalker. Anyone capable of drawing a crowd like Kal’s in the deadly hour before dawn stood a good chance of being an asset for the casino.

  He was making good on that chance now—and greatly enjoying roaming the place while decked out in fine clothes, sharing his knowledge. For years, Kal had made a living observing other players—only to forget everything about them after they’d left the table. But that basic skill, repurposed and combined with his mind for minutiae, had already returned rewards.

  As now. “How’s it going, Salesbeing of the Year?”

  Kedpin Shoklop turned from his seat at the zinbiddle table. “Master Sonmi! You remembered.”

  “Of course.” Kal studied the puny pile of coins before the tubby creature. “Low stakes this afternoon?”

  “I did everything you taught me, but I must not be doing it right.” Kedpin’s colossal eye grew fretful. “I started with so much—and frankly, I’m worried.”

  “It’s a game,” Kal said. “It’s supposed to be fun.” He clapped his hand on Kedpin’s shoulder. “Consider every coin you bring into this room as already spent—spent on a good time. Maybe you’ll get some back, or maybe you won’t. But there’s no sense ruining a good time with worry, is there?”

  “No.” Kedpin gazed upon him gratefully. “I needed to hear that.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Eavesdropping from the pit, Vestry looked at Kal and gently nodded as he stepped away. He didn’t think she liked him any better, but now they were more clearly on the same team. Dealing from the next table over, Minn shot him a wink and a hidden thumbs-up.

  “Looking good, my friend,” Ganzer said as he hustled past Kal with a tray.

  “Same,” he said, patting his pal on the back. He was staying with Ganzer until he found a place. Kal liked the fact that, years after his encounter with the Jedi, Ganzer had been functioning as sort of a secret agent against cheats. He hoped Canto Bight was paying him for it. He deserved a day at the spa.

  As for Kal, he intended to continue to play—but either in tournaments or for fun, and the latter only in certain company. He was taking his gloves off when the Suertons appeared.

  “You’re just in time,” Kal said. “My shift’s over.”

  “Lucky you,” Wodi said. “There’s a huge card game tonight on a yacht.”

  “A yacht that will be in the middle of a race at the time,” Thodi said. “Interested?”

  “Lose outside and win inside at the same time,” Kal mused. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “We’ll head out in a bit,” Wodi said, craning his neck to see where Ganzer had gone. He jostled Thodi. “Let’s get a couple for the road.”

  “What road? It’s a boat race,” Thodi said as the two of them loped off, leaving Kal and Dodi behind. Kal reached into his pouch and handed Dodi some coins.

  “What’s this?” Dodi asked.

  “It’s the value of the Vermilion voucher, plus eight coins for the one you placed on the tournament table. I always pay my debts.”

  Dodi tossed the coins in the air and caught them all. “We’ll bet i
t on something tonight together. Enjoying the new job?”

  “You bet.” Turning to walk the busy aisles with Dodi, he said, “You know, I came from a rough place—and there’s a lot of bad stuff going on in the galaxy.” He looked to his friend. “You ever feel guilty about this life?”

  “Kal, have my brothers or I ever told you what our lives were like before, or where we came from?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not—because people come to Canto Bight so as not to have to think about all that.” He gestured to the casino floor, teeming with happy people. “When there’s so much bad going on, it helps to know that there’s a place where none of that matters.”

  “Got to have a paradise or two.”

  “Precisely.” Dodi put his hand on Kal’s back as they walked and raised the other hand in a grand gesture. “The galaxy doesn’t need us to blow up starships. We are good at one thing: having fun, in a place built for it. And I say it is our solemn responsibility to have as much fun as possible, every waking moment.”

  Kal smiled. “We’d better do it, then.” He draped his arm around Dodi and turned him around. “Hey, if we’ve got time, let’s get in a few hands as riders over here. There’s this guy at the zinbiddle table you might like. Real fun. Vaporator Salesbeing of the Year.”

  “Fascinating! Well, lead the way,” Dodi said, reaching for his coins as they wandered into the crowd. “Er—what’s a vaporator?”

  “No idea. Just whatever you do, don’t buy me one…”

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  SALADIN AHMED was born in Detroit and raised in a working-class, Arab American enclave in Dearborn, Michigan. His short stories have been nominated for the Nebula and John W. Campbell awards and have appeared in Year’s Best Fantasy and numerous magazines, anthologies, and podcasts, as well as being translated into five languages. Throne of the Crescent Moon is his first novel. He lives near Detroit with his wife and twin children.

  RAE CARSON is the New York Times bestselling author of award-winning speculative fiction, including the Girl of Fire and Thorns series and The Gold Seer Trilogy. Originally from California, she now lives in Arizona with her husband.