He leaned over her, slipped a chip into the slot machine, and pulled the lever. Three Gypsy Gates spun into place. The machine chirped delightedly. Chips poured into the cash tray.
“If I kill you, do I absorb your luck?” she said. “Is that how it works?”
He grinned, took one chip out of the tray, and left the rest. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me.”
He strolled away towards the elevator, pocketing the chip as he walked.
Knox cleared his throat. “So, if he doesn’t want all these…” He gestured to the chips. “…can I have them?”
“Touch them and I break your neck,” Dom said.
He looked mournfully at the chips. “At least buy me a drink, then.”
She sighed and shoved the chips into her pockets.
11
Eddie stopped in front of the goons wasting oxygen next to the elevator and gave them a good look at his teeth.
“Good evening, sir,” the one on the left said. Eddie got the feeling he’d only just started using words like “sir” and hadn’t quite got used to it. “Do you have your token?”
Eddie flicked the silver casino chip at him. The man caught it with both hands and examined it. Satisfied, he slipped it into a thin slot above the elevator call button. The doors hummed open and the slot spat the coin back out.
“Will you have any company joining you tonight, sir?” the man said as he handed Eddie back the chip.
“Not tonight,” he said, stepping into the elevator. “A man’s got to have some alone time. And what the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He winked at the guard.
The man just nodded. “Yes, sir. Enjoy your evening.”
The doors slid closed and the elevator began to move.
Eddie whistled to himself, checked his reflection in the mirror, and slicked back his hair. Then the door opened and he stepped out into a room of classical music and the smell of vanilla.
Something warm and young pressed itself against his arm.
“Good evening, sir.”
A pretty girl all of about sixteen smiled up at him with perfect teeth and blue eyes so big you’d need a nav console and a grav drive just to get from one corner to the other. Her red gown plunged so precipitously at both the front and back he wondered why she didn’t just go topless and be done with it.
“Evening,” he said. She remained attached to his arm. “Am I under arrest?”
She giggled a giggle that was as annoying as it was vapid. No wonder she was pressing her breasts against him so tight—they seemed to be the only thing she had going for her. “I’m Brittany. Would you care for an escort this evening?”
Escort? He glanced behind her and finally noticed the small crowd of beautifully boring men and women in red outfits waiting to ambush lonely high rollers. He guessed they must be playing the odds, shoving this schoolgirl at him instead of one of the well-muscled men.
“Is this your first time with us, sir?” Brittany said. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and gently pulled. “Come, let’s get you a drink. What’s your name, handsome?”
Handsome? Bloody hell.
“Mr Black,” he said.
“Lovely. Follow me, Mr Black.”
She practically skipped through the tiled entrance hall. Wide arches opened up into rooms on either side of him, each revealing gaming tables thick with black suits and cigar smoke. A cheer erupted from a blackjack table, the dealer smiling along with the winners.
Three more red-gowned pretties passed them. Each had a businessman or woman on their arm. The female escorts all shared their luscious smiles with him. Oh, how the rich lived.
The entrance hall ended and opened up into a wide, high-roofed chamber with three platforms of tables and chairs sloping progressively downward to a red-curtained stage at the far end. A handful of suited men and women nibbled on tiny portions of steak and chicken while seated at the tables. On the stage, a lone microphone stood on a stand against the crimson backdrop.
“When’s the show?” he asked.
“In about thirty minutes. Are you a music lover, Mr Black?”
“On occasion.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy the musical talents of Miss Mayweather.”
She led him over to a wide bar to the right of the main doors. If he wasn’t mistaken, the bar top was made of real wood, stained and polished.
The barman stood patiently with his hands behind his back. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Lotus blossom.” He paused and put on half a smile. “And a Bluen if you have one handy.”
“Certainly, sir.” The barman went to work, filling the shaker with ice and vodka and liqueurs. He shook the shaker with the kind of poised assurance that earned fifty thousand vin tips, then strained the liquid into a cocktail glass and garnished it with a leaf of mint and a small flower. When he’d prepared the drink to his satisfaction, he placed it on a napkin in front of Eddie. Next to it he laid another napkin and dropped a Bluen pill into the exact centre. That done, his hands slid behind him and he probably gave himself a little pat on the back for a job well done.
It’d been a long time since Eddie had been anywhere like this. He’d grown up with money—most of it embezzled by his father, of course, although he didn’t know that at the time. But he’d forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by this kind of extravagance. It didn’t feel right. Where was the grit? He wanted to feel some kind of texture when he ran his finger along the bar top. Even the Bluen tasted too clean when he slipped it under his tongue.
He hoped he had enough money to pay the tab when it was time to leave. He should’ve taken even more off Dom’s card.
As if on cue, a short crackle hummed through the earpiece of his glasses.
“Are you in?” Dom’s voice came through. “Cough if you can’t talk.”
He brought his fist to his mouth and gave a small cough, following it up with another sip of his cocktail.
“Just listen, then. We’re about to make our move on the security station. Knox says if he can plant some sort of gizmo he can access the basics from his tab. If we get the plans, we can guide you from here. And if you find the systems room, we’ll see about sending Knox up to access it. Tap twice if that’s okay.”
He made to scratch his ear and tapped twice on the side of his glasses.
“Roger,” she said. Then she was gone.
Eddie sat for another couple of moments with Brittany the escort casting him blank, pleasant smiles over her own drink. Every few seconds, she’d try some more small talk. As the last of the Bluen dissolved, he smiled back and picked up his cocktail.
“I feel like a little blackjack. Would you show me the way?”
The girl wrapped her arm around his and beamed. “Certainly, Mr Black. I can tell you’re a man with a lot of luck.”
“You have no idea.”
12
Dom eyed the security station over her barely touched cocktail. “I hate being sneaky. I don’t do sneaky.”
“Really?” Knox said dryly, looking her up and down. “But you seem so spry and nimble.”
“Shut up.” From her position a couple of metres behind a roulette table she could see through the reinforced glass windows into the security station. There was only one staff member inside the room in front of the bank of security monitors, but plenty of security guards walking the floor nearby. They’d see her if she tried to force the door.
“Looks like we need a distraction,” Knox observed.
“Preferably one that isn’t going to put the place in lockdown. Some of these guys look a little jumpy. I don’t want to kill anyone I don’t have to.”
“A noble sentiment,” the augment said. “I’ve got an idea. Follow me.”
He moved around to the side of the security station, heading for several long rows of slot machines. Only a handful of gamblers played, each pulling the levers of two or three adjacent machines at a time. She followed Knox down the row until he reached the end.
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“Is anyone watching us?” he asked.
She glanced around. They were in a blind spot between a couple of security cameras. This section was too deserted to receive much staff attention. “We’re clear. What are you doing?”
He bent down next to the last in the row of slot machines and pulled a thin metal panel off a box affixed to the side. “All these casinos control the slot machines centrally. That way they can adjust the odds up or down as they need to.” He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the cables disappearing into his skin. He selected a pair of them and plugged them into two jacks inside the box.
“That’s disgusting,” she said.
“Typical Luddite from the House of Man.”
“I don’t follow the House.”
“But you were raised by them. And that counts for a lot.”
He pulled a chunky grey tab out of his pocket and plugged a third cable from his arm into it. The monochrome green screen lit up. The machine clicked rapidly as it powered on.
“Nice tab,” she said.
He shifted slightly, like he was embarrassed. “Shut up. It’s a hunk of shit piece of new tech. I used to have an Engage 4, pristine condition, latest model from before the Fall. Except the Feds seemed to think I shouldn’t have it anymore when they arrested me.” He pressed an analogue button on the side of the tab and shuddered as if he’d been shocked. “Christ, it’s like jacking into a toaster.”
She didn’t know much about augments, only the urban legends the Fed-controlled media couldn’t suppress. Most of them came out of the Radiance, the fringe group of Pre-Fall tech hoarders that made their home on Uriel. The Feds made them out to be some sort of cult, worshipping old tech and trying to coax new life out of it. She’d heard rumours that human augmentation used to be fairly common in the Core systems before the Fall. Not so much out here at the Fringe, where the Solar Federation hadn’t trusted its citizens with more advanced technology. That didn’t make it any less disturbing watching Knox plug into the tab, connecting it to himself on some level she couldn’t even begin to understand.
She swallowed her unease. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”
“Adjusting the odds.” Knox’s fingers flew across the tab, faster than she could keep track of. His remaining eye stared blankly ahead, while the electronic replacement hummed quietly. “You still got those chips Skinny gave you?”
She glanced down the row of slot machines and got the idea. “Want me to start playing some slots?”
“See, all the other kids say you’re slow, but I knew you’d catch on eventually.”
“Gee, thanks. I’ll leave you and your department store tab alone.”
His cheeks flushed. “It’s a temporary tab. Temporary. Get on with it, Tarzan.”
She moved down the row and fed chips into three different machines. With a glance back, she saw that Knox had unplugged himself from the panel and was slinking slowly back towards the security station. He met her eyes and gave a quick nod. She licked her lips and pulled each of the slot machine levers, one by one.
The dials spun and spun. She backed up a little bit, away from the machines.
The first machine burst out with a victorious melody of beeps. “Jackpot! Jackpot!” it yelled.
Eyes glanced towards the slot machines from nearby. Flashing lights lit up the machine as chips began to pour into the tray, overflowing onto the floor.
The next slot machine over stopped its spinning and joined in the victory song. “Jackpot! Jackpot!”
Then the next one. “Jackpot! Jackpot!”
Gamblers were drifting away from the roulette table now, coming to see the commotion. A couple of red-suited security guards spoke urgently into their tabs. None of them looked at her as she quickly slipped away.
One of the women further down the line of slot machines gave a delighted shriek. “Jackpot! Jackpot!” her machine declared.
There was a moment’s pause as every nearby gambler stared at the rows upon rows of slot machines. The overlapping shouts of “Jackpot!” and whistles and pouring chips rang in Dom’s ears. She could see the flashing lights reflected in the gamblers’ stares.
Then the stampede started all at once, as if it’d been choreographed. Men and women dressed in tuxedos and gowns elbowed each other out of the way in a rush to fill the slot machine seats. Soon the cacophony was accompanied by shouts and the clunk of slot levers being pulled and dials spinning.
“Jackpot!”
“Jackpot!”
“Jackpot!”
Security guards and staff members ran around wildly, yelling into tabs and trying to tug gamblers away from the machines. Dom smiled to herself and slipped away through the growing crowd, heading for the security station.
Knox moved alongside her, using her bulk as a buffer against the crowd. “Did I do good, Mummy?”
“That is the creepiest thing I’ve heard you say yet. Never ever call me that again.” She pushed her way out of the crowd and glanced at the security station. The staff were all distracted, but she could see one security guard still inside the station, standing up and watching the chaos on his monitors.
“That security booth’s door is locked,” Knox said as they approached the station.
She brushed past a security guard hurrying towards the chaos. When he’d passed, she held up the electronic key she’d swiped from his belt.
The augment gave her an appraising nod. “I’m impressed. They teach you that in between Poisoning Public Water Supplies and Propaganda 101?”
“Yeah, right after How to Twist the Legs Off Annoying Augments. I got an A in that one.”
“Still a guard inside,” he said. “Got a plan to deal with him as well?”
“Just the one.”
She glanced around once more. No one looking her way. Inside the booth, the guard rubbed his forehead as he stared at the monitors. Dom slid the electronic key into the lock and pulled open the door.
The guard started to turn. Dom kicked him in the back of the knee, wrapped her arm around his neck, and squeezed.
“Jesus Christ,” Knox said as he came in after her.
“Close the door, for the love of Man,” she said through gritted teeth. The guard’s fingers clawed at her face. She had ten kilograms and a head’s height on him. He could claw all he liked. He wasn’t going anywhere.
She heard the door click as the electronic lock reengaged. The man’s face was going purple in her arms.
She glanced at Knox. “Can anyone see?”
The augment peeked out the window. “I don’t think so. You’re going to kill him.”
“I’m not going to kill him.” The guard’s struggles grew sluggish. His tongue protruded grotesquely from his mouth. His legs faltered and then she was taking all his weight. He went still.
She lowered him carefully to the floor and released him. His breathing started again, but his eyes remained closed.
“See,” she said. “He’s fine.”
“Yeah. He looks just dandy. Get on lookout.”
She positioned herself near the door and divided her attention between looking through the window and watching the casino’s security feeds on the bank of monitors. She could still hear the calls of “Jackpot!” drowning out everything else.
When she glanced back at Knox, he was lying on the floor under the security computer, plugging himself into some hidden port. Like Knox’s tab, the computer here was new and bulky. Mechanical clicks chattered from the machine as he hooked some sort of plastic chip into place.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Computer stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”
“This’ll let you access their security remotely?”
“That’s why I’m doing it, isn’t it?” He kicked the limp body of the security guard. “Move him out of the way, will you? I need to get over here.”
She put her boot under the guard and rolled him so Knox could shuffle over. He pulled his tab out and plugged in another cab
le.
“Seems a bit strange,” she said as she returned her attention to the window.
“What does?”
“Someone like you ending up in the Bolt. Most hackers don’t end up in a supermax.”
“Most hackers don’t jack into the prisoner transport vessel they’re in and vent the crew compartment’s oxygen into space.”
She grunted.
“What?” he said. “You don’t approve of killing Feds, New Calypsan?”
“When I killed Feds it was war.”
“I’m sure that’s a real comfort to them.” He glanced at her while his fingers continued to poke rapidly at his tab. “You know the real difference between you and me? When they caught me, they saw a midget and an old-tech cultist. So they threw away the key. When they caught you, they saw a weapon. So they figured out how to use you.”
“Well, now I’m using you. And you’re using me.”
“Ain’t this one big happy family?” he said. “What’s the skinny guy’s deal? Why’s a writer hanging around with you?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“Pass. I’m not in the mood to go making any friends.” He unjacked himself and clambered out. “All done.”
“You’ve got it?”
“I’ve got it all, sweetcheeks.” He nudged the guard with his shoe. “What are we doing with him?”
“Leave him. Can you wipe any security vid feeds that might’ve recorded us coming in here?”
“Already done. Can we get out of here? I think this guy pissed himself.”
She glanced out the window once more, waiting for a pit boss to pass, then pulled open the door. “After you.”
“So polite, for a terrorist.” He slipped through the door.
She held her tongue and followed him out.
Eddie tapped the table. The dealer slipped a card off the top of the deck and laid it on the table in front of him. Jack of hearts. Shit.
“Twenty-two,” the dealer said. “Player busts. Sorry, sir.”
He took Eddie’s stack of chips and sequestered them in his tray.
“It seems like your luck is turning bad, Mr Black,” Brittany said as she stood behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders.
Stalker's Luck (Solitude Saga Book 1) Page 9
