Slots of Saturn: A Poker Boy Novel

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  “And more than likely the FBI as well,” I said.

  “On Ben’s disappearance?” Samantha asked, turning her head toward Patty.

  “His, and a lot of other disappearances over the past week,” Patty said, putting her hand gently on Samantha’s. “It seems that whatever happened to Ben has happened more than fifty times this past week.”

  “Started nine days ago,” Screamer said. “Sixty-seven people officially missing, another dozen maybes, there could be even more. And that’s all I was able to get the entire morning.”

  I glanced at Screamer. Clearly his sources had gotten us the same basic information Patty and I got from Stan and Johnny and Geneva.

  “Over seventy people?” Samantha asked, her voice soft.

  “Looks that way,” I said. “That’s why so many people are working on this, which is a good thing.”

  Samantha nodded. “I guess so.”

  The silence filled the booth. I wasn’t letting myself believe that those seventy people might be dead. Even though I had seen Ben disappear on that tape, I had to believe he was still alive somewhere. Otherwise, this was going to be one of the biggest mass-murders in modern times. But until I learned otherwise, I was going to go on the belief that we were rescuing people, not trying to stop a killer.

  “We also found the Saturn Slots,” Patty said. “We watched them vanish and return right up close.”

  “You’re kidding?” Screamer said. “You saw the ghost slots where they lived?”

  “That we did,” I said.

  “Oh, man,” Screamer said, “you two have more guts than brains. Those things are monsters.”

  “That they are,” a man’s voice said from beside me at the end of the table.

  All four of us turned like our heads were on the same string.

  Stan was pulling up a chair to sit, moving carefully to avoid Sue on the floor.

  I didn’t know what to think. In all my life I had never heard of a gambling god joining someone for lunch. I supposed they had to eat, but having a god at lunch just seemed downright strange.

  Besides that, the service was going to be damned slow, since everyone in the restaurant and outside the restaurant was frozen in place. Clearly Stan had moved our table into a place between moments in time. Luckily, Madge was on the other side of the café and had been coming toward us when Stan arrived.

  After Stan got settled, he reached across in front of me. “Screamer, great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Screamer shook his hand. “Stan, the pleasure’s all mine.”

  “Patty,” Stan said, turning to her, smiling. “It’s been a while.”

  “Stan,” Patty said, smiling back. “Nice seeing you again.”

  I stared at the woman I had met across the front desk at the Horseshoe like she was an alien. She clearly knew Stan better than I did, and from the smile she gave him, they had a history I wasn’t sure I wanted to know about.

  I am a poker player. I am supposed to be able to read people, get a clear idea of who they are, what they are going to do in any situation. Patty and Stan had just shown me my reading powers when it came to Patty were non-existent. I had met a couple of people over the years that could block my reads, but not many. Not many at all. And for some reason, I hadn’t thought of Patty as one of those people. But she was. She could block my reads on her without me even knowing I was being blocked.

  She was good.

  Very good.

  I glanced across the table at Samantha, who had a puzzled frown on her face.

  “Samantha,” I said, “the man who just joined us is named Stan. Stan, Samantha.”

  I figured there was no point in trying to tell her he was one of the gods of gambling. She had enough weird stuff to deal with as it was.

  Samantha brought her hand up to shake Stan’s hand and he took it.

  “Very nice meeting you,” he said. “Even though you aren’t a gambler. But rest assured, this group can get your husband back if anyone can.”

  “Thank you,” Samantha said. “I’m slowly starting to believe that. And I don’t think I really want to know how you shut down every person and every noise around us, do I?”

  “Nothing harmful, I assure you,” Stan said, a smile on his face that Samantha couldn’t see, but I was sure she knew was there.

  She nodded and asked nothing more.

  “So,” Stan said, turning back to face me and Screamer. “You found the home of the ghost slots.”

  “Right where they were supposed to be,” I said. “They sort of left and came back while we were there.”

  “Sort of is right,” Patty said.

  Stan looked at her, then back at me, as puzzled as I ever wanted to see a god be.

  “The things were covered with a tarp when we found them,” I said. “Patty and I pulled the tarp off just before they vanished. But then Geneva realized that if the things were coming and going, they couldn’t have been under a tarp, so Detective State and I put the tarp back into place, showing that some invisible part of the slot machines stayed in the warehouse.”

  “Now that’s damn weird,” Screamer said.

  “But you couldn’t see anything that was there?” Stan asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “But that heavy tarp was being held up by something in the shape of the Saturn Slots. And when the slots returned, the tarp didn’t move one bit.”

  “And there was no person sitting in one of the chairs?” Screamer asked.

  “Nothing the tarp showed in form or movement,” Patty said.

  “Magic trick,” Samantha said. “Sounds like a magic trick Ben and I saw back before we were married at the Mirage. Those two men with white tigers did that sort of thing.”

  “It’s a standard magic illusion,” Stan said. “But there’s nothing magic going on with these machines. That much I can tell you. We’ve checked that side out.”

  Screamer, Patty and I were all nodding. If a gambling god said it wasn’t something, it wasn’t. They had sources I didn’t want to think about, and more than likely those sources had gone into the world of magic, talked to the gods that controlled magic and illusion, and got that cleared.

  “So,” Screamer said, “if it’s not an illusion, what’s powering those things?”

  Stan looked at Screamer. “That’s a good question. We haven’t looked into that side of this yet. I will meet with Burt and Laverne as soon as we get done here to have them go after that side of things.”

  With the mention of Laverne’s name, I wanted to almost bow my head. I could see Patty’s eyes get big as well at the name. When Stan talked about Laverne, he talked about Lady Luck herself, the General Manager of all Gambling.

  “Good,” Screamer said, clearly as stunned as I felt at Stan’s off-handed mention of Laverne.

  “Stan,” I said, “you mentioned there were other teams working on this.”

  “Sure,” Stan said.

  “Detective State and Geneva Gurwell are one team, right?”

  “They are,” Stan said. “They were given some powers to help them.”

  “Well,” I said, “have you heard the information they have about someone pointing Geneva to a place where the slots would show up, before they showed up.”

  Now it was Stan’s turn to stare at me, and again it felt as if I was being read by the best poker player on the planet.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Detective State and Geneva are working on the angle that someone can control the machines,” Patty said. “We’re going after the chance that someone can predict the things.”

  “Any suggestions on that?” I asked. “Who we should talk to, who might be able to predict or control ghost slots?”

  “I can’t imagine anyone controlling those things,” Stan said. “Not even Maggie, who’s in charge of slots, knows how or why those things work. They have been a thorn in the side of her department since slots were invented.”

  “So I want to know,” Samantha said, “how m
achines can take my husband and all these other people? Where do the people go? Where’s Ben right now?”

  “We don’t know that either I’m afraid,” Stan said.

  “If the machines are being controlled, they might be dropping the victims off in a third location,” Patty said.

  “But if they aren’t controlled and someone is only predicting them, that’s going to help us as well,” I said.

  “Talk to The Bookkeeper,” Stan said. “He might have been the one who sent the note to the Sun.”

  I had never heard of anyone called The Bookkeeper, but clearly Patty and Screamer had from the looks of disgust on their faces.

  “Where can we find this guy?” I asked.

  “He’s got a home out in West Las Vegas,” Patty said, before Stan could answer. Her voice seemed suddenly angry and clearly disgusted. On this topic, I was having no problem at all reading her.

  “Don’t like the guy, huh?” I said, smiling at Patty.

  “No one likes the guy,” Patty said. “He’s a pig.”

  “Amen to that,” Screamer said.

  “Well, at the moment, he’s still our best lead,” I said. Then I turned to Stan. “You’re going to check on the power source question, right?”

  “I am,” Stan said. “I’ll find you and let you know what we come up with.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I turned to Screamer. “Would you use your sources and find us the best old-slot technician you can find. It needs to be someone who can work on the slots as old as those Saturn Slots. And someone who can still move and get things done.”

  Screamer nodded. “Sure, but why?”

  “If these things really are just out-of-control machines functioning on statistics and mechanics, we’re going to need someone who knows what makes them tick.”

  “Gotcha,” Screamer said. “And you and Patty get The Bookkeeper.”

  “Oh, yuch,” Patty said.

  “And what can I do to help?” Samantha asked.

  I stared at Samantha for a moment. It wasn’t often that someone I was trying to help asked to help in the process. In this case, I didn’t blame her one bit. If I had been in her position, I would have wanted to help as well, but I had no idea what she could do at this point.

  I glanced at Stan and he was smiling, staring at her.

  “Let me help,” Samantha said. “Anything. Sitting in that damn hotel room just waiting for something to happen is going to drive me crazy.”

  “Samantha,” Stan said, before I could come up with some lame reason for it being important that she stay in the room. “I want you to focus on me for a moment, the sound of my voice.”

  Samantha turned toward Stan and nodded.

  Suddenly Stan’s right hand flew out as if to slap her in the face.

  Samantha moved instantly, letting his open hand pass by her without touching her.

  “I think she’s ready to help you,” Stan said, smiling at me.

  “What did you do to me?” Samantha asked, clearly stunned at whatever was happening.

  “I couldn’t give you your sight back,” Stan said, “so I just opened up your existing senses a little bit. You had already opened them a great deal since losing your vision. Now, just trust the information you are getting.”

  “I’m already used to doing that,” she said. “Thank you, I think.”

  Stan laughed. “Don’t mention it. It’s not often I get to help someone who doesn’t play poker.”

  Stan smiled at me. “I think she can help you now.”

  I nodded, believing him. After his little almost-slap demonstration, I had no doubt.

  “Samantha, you come with me and Patty,” I said. Then I glanced at Stan and Screamer. “We’ll all meet out at the warehouse before six.”

  I noticed that even Stan nodded to that. I was hoping he was going to join us out there. Having a gambling god and all his powers along for the ride wouldn’t hurt.

  “Have a good lunch,” Stan said, scooting his chair back and standing. “Nice meeting you, Samantha.”

  “Nice meeting you as well,” Samantha said. “And thank you again, for whatever you did to me. It’s amazing.”

  Suddenly, all the sounds of the restaurant pounded back in on the table like a wave hitting a beach. Madge moved toward us, a bubble half-popped in her mouth.

  Stan was gone.

  “Okay, someone tell me I’m not going completely nuts or dreaming,” Samantha said.

  “The gods do that to you,” Screamer said, laughing. “They can drive you crazy.”

  “Gods?” Samantha asked.

  “What can I get for you folks to eat?” Madge said, moving up and saving us from explaining to Samantha that there were levels of gods that existed that people prayed to all the time, but never really thought existed.

  Madge stood close and towered over the table in a way I never wanted Madge to tower over me. It seemed as if the lights had gone dimmer in the restaurant. I looked up and could barely see Madge’s forehead, her eyes, and the tip of her nose over her huge breasts.

  I was in a breast eclipse. No wonder the lights had dimmed.

  “Roast turkey sandwich,” I said, staring at the menu instead of looking upward.

  We all ordered and soon enough the light came back to the table as Madge turned and walked away.

  Samantha giggled and whispered to Patty. “We’re they as big as my enhanced senses told me they were?”

  Patty nodded. “Bigger.”

  I started to glance at Madge as she walked away.

  “Don’t look,” Screamer whispered to me.

  It took every superpower I had, but I didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE BOOKKEEPER

  AFTER LUNCH, Samantha had taken her dog Sue for a short walk and then back to her room and left Sue there. With whatever Stan had done to Samantha’s four remaining senses, she had said she wasn’t going to need Sue as much.

  When Samantha came walking out of the side door to the Horseshoe with her sunglasses on, but acting and moving as if she could see everything, I was a believer.

  After the three of us were in Patty’s car, with Patty driving, me in the front seat, and Samantha in the back, Patty asked Samantha what the new senses felt like.

  “Same as before,” Samantha said, laughing. “I’m still smelling, hearing, feeling and tasting like before. It’s just that the first three are very heightened, and the information I’m getting from the three senses of smelling, hearing, and feeling is being put together better in my head, forming pretty good images of things.”

  I turned my head to look at her and ask a question, but Samantha pointed a finger at me. “There, I can tell you turned your head and are looking at me.” She reached forward and gently touched my cheek. “My combined senses even tell me exactly how far your face is from me.”

  “Like a computer putting data together and forming a composite,” I said.

  “Amazing,” Patty said.

  “It is,” Samantha said. “This Stan person, whoever he was, did me a huge favor.”

  “And speaking of Stan,” I said, turning to look at Patty as she headed the car out of the downtown area toward where I assumed The Bookkeeper lived. “How do you two know each other?”

  She actually blushed a little.

  “Oh, this might be a good story,” Samantha said, laughing. “I don’t need sight to tell she’s blushing.”

  Patty actually blushed some more at that, then glanced at me, more than likely trying to get a read on how much I really wanted to know.

  “Spit it out,” I said, smiling at her.

  “I met Stan about eighty years ago, at a club in a town called Garden City, up in Idaho. It was a gambling town on the edge of Boise at the time, full of nightclubs and card rooms and slot machines, before Idaho outlawed gambling of that type.”

  “Eighty years?” I said, staring at her, shocked. “That means you are one of the gods?”

  “No, of course not,” she said
, smiling at me. “I’m at your level, only on the hotel management side. I help people who need help, just like you do.”

  “What do they call you?” I asked, smiling at her. “Front Desk Girl.”

  “Mostly just Patty,” she said, laughing. “But I like that. I might use it.”

  “Explain the eighty years part,” Samantha said from the back seat. “I have a sense you’re only in your mid-thirties, not ninety or more.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t know us superhero-types lived that long.”

  “No one’s told you that yet, huh?” she said, smiling at me. “It’s one of the benefits of the job. You’re still new at this stuff. You’ll learn.”

  The idea that I might live for a hundred years and look the same sort of stunned me. I just hadn’t given getting old much thought, since in poker you get more respect if you look a little older and grizzled. I’d have to talk to Patty about this after we were done stopping the slot machines.

  “So, do I even want to ask how old you really are?” Samantha said, “not that I’m going to believe any of this.”

  Patty smiled. “Always better to keep them guessing. Anyway, we’re almost there.”

  “Nice avoidance on the Stan question,” I said.

  She just smiled at me while Samantha chuckled in the back seat.

  I glanced out at the older-style ranch houses we were passing. Clearly Patty and Screamer had had dealings with this Bookkeeper person and didn’t like him much.

  “So who is this Bookkeeper?” Samantha asked before I could.

  “He’s a man who has spent his entire lifetime, and all his energy, working statistics. He sees patterns in things no one else does. He was granted longer life a hundred years back to keep studying in exchange for helping out in situations like this one.”

  “Everyone’s not getting older,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I think I still am,” Samantha said. “But at this point, I wouldn’t even swear to that.”

  Both Patty and I laughed.

  Then Patty said, “This guy is a real pig in just about every sense of the word. Don’t let him get to you, because he enjoys that. If we stay focused on the slot machines, he’ll be able to help us, I hope.”