Slots of Saturn: A Poker Boy Novel

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  “Something about that circling thing,” I said, releasing my seat belt so I could turn and face Stan in the back. “Any chance the power is coming from the people it has taken.”

  “You mean like the myth says?” Patty asked.

  I nodded.

  “Possible,” Stan said. “Bernie couldn’t find any yes or no on that either. This has got him as stumped as the rest of us.”

  I hated it when gods said they were stumped. It made me feel even less capable of saving Samantha’s husband and all the rest. What could a minor superhero do that the gods couldn’t do?

  “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Stan said. “Good luck in there.”

  “You’re not coming in with us?” I asked, but by the time my question reached the back seat, Stan was gone.

  “Someone’s got to put a bell on him,” Samantha said. “So he can warn us when he’s coming and going.”

  “So the gods are as clueless as we are at this point,” Patty said, turning to look at me with those big brown eyes of hers. “Any ideas?”

  “A few,” I said.

  I didn’t add that all my really great ideas concerned her naked in a shower and me holding the soap.

  I didn’t have a clue what to do about the ghost slot machines, saving over seventy lives, and stopping the ruin of the entire gambling industry.

  “Great,” she said. “Because I sure don’t.”

  At that moment, Johnny and Geneva drove up beside Patty’s car and stopped, followed closely by Screamer’s car. It seemed it was time to get to work and do some superhero-type deeds, if I could just figure out which deeds we needed to do.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A (SORT OF) PLAN FORMS

  ALL SEVEN OF US moved into the warehouse and stood just inside the door in a large circle, surrounded by thousands of dead slot machines.

  The place was warm, but not as hot as outside, and it echoed, giving all of our voices a feedback quality. The warehouse smelled of dry dust with a faint burnt electrical odor over everything. The big space would have given me the creeps even without the ghost slot machines living back along the side wall.

  Patty stood beside me on my right, Samantha on my left.

  Johnny and Geneva stood across from me. Both had occasional looks in their eyes as if listening to something in the distance. They weren’t touching, but if I had my guess, their power to hear each others thoughts didn’t need touch anymore.

  Screamer stood to Patty’s right with a grunge-looking man with long hair black pulled back, a nose ring, and tattoos showing on most areas of bare skin, including a naked woman along his neck that twisted and moved every time the guy turned his head. He wore jeans and a loose shirt and looked like he hadn’t had a good meal in years. He carried a beat-up blue backpack in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other.

  Screamer had introduced him as Brian, but said everyone just called him Tech, since he was so good with computers and machines.

  I had expected Screamer to bring an older man, someone who had actually worked on the old-style slot machines back before everything went computers. But if Screamer thought this guy could do the job, then he could do it.

  I started off by asking Johnny and Geneva what they had discovered. They gave a quick rundown of how they had eliminated any last thoughts of this being a magic trick, then told us about their meeting with Rees, a major magician, often finishing each other’s sentences as they spoke.

  “Wow,” Tech said, staring at Geneva and Johnny. “You actually talked with Rees “The Mechanic” in his home?”

  “Yeah,” Johnny said, clearly half-disgusted at the question.

  “He’s the best there is, man,” Tech said.

  “So anything come of the meeting with him?”

  “Just that he was surprised about the people being taken when the machine is showing a jackpot,” Geneva said.

  “Real surprised,” Johnny said.

  “You sure on that jackpot part?” Tech asked Geneva.

  Both her head and Johnny’s nodded like they were being pulled by the same string.

  “Rees said that being taken, actually losing on jackpots just isn’t the way the machines work.”

  “What’s that mean?” Screamer asked Tech about a half second before I could ask him the same question. The security tape we saw of the machine taking Ben out of the Horseshoe wasn’t set at such an angle that we could see the reels on the face of the machine Ben was playing.

  “Man, it means that someone got inside those old things and reset a half-dozen different settings on the reel board.”

  “So someone is behind this after all?” Johnny asked.

  “No kidding,” Tech said. “No other way a machine can get set like that. Can’t happen accidentally that’s for sure.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, wanting to be very sure.

  Tech stared at me for a moment. “There’s a solenoid on the reel board that works like a switch to determine jackpots. I don’t even think a normal solenoid in one of these old sixties machines has a setting for full payout every time. There wouldn’t be enough coins in the machine for one, and second there would be no reason to even have such a setting designed in. No, this is special work here by someone.”

  I wasn’t sure I understood exactly what he meant, but I nodded and let it go for the moment.

  Johnny indicated we should hold on a second, then pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call. When someone answered he identified himself, asked for a Captain Walk, then said, “Captain, I’ve got a lead on the disappearances. I need someone to get the records from Standard Slots on anyone granted access to the old Valley Slots graveyard warehouse.”

  He listened for a moment, then said, “Just the last month should be enough. Thanks.”

  I nodded to him as he clicked his cell phone shut, then turned back to Tech. “So how do we change those settings back?”

  “And get my husband out of that thing,” Samantha said. “If that’s where he’s at.”

  Tech shrugged, causing the naked woman on his neck to contort into a very unnatural posture. “I figure we first got to check out what’s powering the whole mess, shut that off. Do that and I can open up the machine and reset everything, maybe replace that faulty solenoid.

  I stared at him. I had seen those machines come and go, once on a tape, once up close. I couldn’t imagine anyone simply walking up to one of them and opening the front.

  “Are we going to need a key to open the things?” Screamer asked.

  Tech held up his old backpack. “Got that, buddy.”

  “In case we can’t stop these things quickly,” Patty said to Johnny, “You need to get some people at these locations at these times.”

  She handed Johnny a copy of the sheets that The Bookkeeper had given us showing where the machines were going to appear next.

  “You found out who is controlling these things?” Geneva asked, glancing at the paper in Johnny’s hand as he read it.

  “No,” Patty said, “but we know who sent your newspaper that first note. A guy called The Bookkeeper who uses math to predict these things.”

  “And you are sure he has nothing to do with this?” Johnny asked.

  “Completely,” I said.

  Johnny nodded. “So we have about two hours until the machines shift, if this is to be believed. So what do we do next?”

  “I suppose we see if Tech and I can get the face of one of those things open.”

  At that moment Johnny’s cell phone rang and he answered it, listening for a moment before saying, “You’re sure?”

  He listened again for a short moment, with the rest of us standing there in the warehouse staring at him.

  Then he said “Thanks.”

  He clicked his phone closed and shook his head. “The last man to be in this warehouse was almost three weeks ago. A guy named Harry Timmer.”

  “Oh, man,” Tech said. “Old Harry’s been missing for three weeks.”

  “That’s wh
at my Captain just said.”

  “You know him?” Screamer asked.

  “Sure,” Tech said. “Everyone in the business knows old Harry. He’s a retired slot tech from the days before computers took over the machines. He liked working on the old mechanicals, fixing them up and selling them as novelty items. He was always scrounging for parts. Made some good money doing it too.”

  “So he’d know how to reset the slots?” Johnny asked.

  Tech laughed. “He could make those old machines dance if he wanted. But, man, if you’re thinkin’ he’s behind all this, you’ve flat lost it. Old Harry wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone use the machines he loved for something like taking people.”

  “Maybe he was forced to,” Johnny said.

  Tech shook his head, making the woman on his neck dance the twist. “I can’t see him doing this.”

  “So let’s go take a look at these things,” I said. “Johnny, you and I will take off the tarp. Tech, you see what you can see, but don’t touch them just yet.”

  “Got you it in one on that,” Tech said.

  I led the group to the far aisle and down toward the ghost slots. I could see faint colors coming from under the tarp, pulsing like a warning light. And the closer we got, the closer I wanted to get, as their unnatural attraction was pulled at me even through the tarp.

  Patty, Geneva, Samantha and Screamer stopped about twenty paces from the machines, leaving Johnny and me and Tech walking slowly at the machines like three old-west marshals headed toward a gunfight.

  I could feel the pull of the things getting stronger with every step. A little voice in my head was telling me to sit down, just play a little.

  What could it hurt?

  Tech stopped across the aisle facing the slots and stood waiting as I went to the far side of the machines and carefully grabbed the tarp without touching any metal.

  Johnny did the same on his side and then nodded at me.

  “Now,” I said.

  We both yanked at the same time, pulling the tarp down and away.

  The entire warehouse again lit up with the rainbow of colors coming off the glowing Saturn Slots. The things seemed to have so much energy that they were pulsing.

  “Oh, man,” Tech said, stepping back.

  “Cripes,” Screamer said.

  The moment the tarp was gone the pull to sit down and play was fantastically stronger. I could feel myself struggling with the desire. And I had no doubt I wasn’t the only one feeling it as Geneva stepped forward and took hold of Johnny’s arm and drew him a few steps back.

  Over the years as Poker Boy I had run into my share of things I wanted to just run away from. But as a superhero, I just had never done that. I guess running scared just wasn’t part of the job description. But that said, right at that moment, I wanted to run as fast and as far from those machines as I could get. However, I think I was so scared my feet didn’t want to move.

  So I just stared at the machines, at the blinking lights, at the bright colors, at the incredible image of Saturn and its rings dominating the area over the machines and the four wooden chairs.

  I took a deep breath and dug down deep into what made me a good poker player. I had been stared-down by the best players in the world, bluffed and intimidated, yet I had always remained cool and level, no matter how much money had been at stake.

  Now there was something a lot more than money at stake. People’s lives. This was not the time for Poker Boy to break.

  So I stared back at the four machines, daring them to take me down, daring them to get to me or anyone else around me.

  After a moment, I realized I had won. My mind had done its trick of putting things into compartments, just like it did with the fear I felt on the final tables of big tournaments. The force the machines were using to try to draw me to them was now trapped off to one side of my mind. It was still there, but it wasn’t going to affect what I did, how I played this hand.

  Maybe being able to do that was also one of my superpowers. If it was I was going to have to figure out a name for it. Something like my Fear-Away Power.

  I glanced around at the others.

  Johnny and Geneva were also doing fine it seemed, keeping each other level.

  Screamer had a confused look on his face, like he was hearing something in the distance. I had no idea how the pull on these machines would affect his power.

  Patty tried a half-smile at me. It was enough to show me she was fine as well. As Front Desk Girl, I was sure she had dealt with more angry people than I had. More than likely, she had a way of compartmentalizing this type of energy like I had. Maybe her own special superpower.

  Tech was still standing facing the machines, but his look had changed from fear and shock to curiosity. It seemed the fearlessness of youth was serving him well.

  “Ben’s in there,” Samantha said, moving toward the machines like she was a zombie in a bad movie. “I can sense him. He’s trapped in there.”

  I stepped across the front of the machines and took her by the shoulders, stopping her five paces from the machines beside Johnny and Geneva. “What do you mean you can sense him?”

  “He’s in there,” she said.

  Everything about her seemed locked on the machines. She clearly wasn’t aware of where she was at the moment for some reason. She half struggled against me, but I wouldn’t let her take another step toward those monsters.

  “How do you know?” Johnny asked her, stepping up and blocking her from the machines.

  With that she seemed to come back to the warehouse, back to a presence in her own body.

  She turned to face me. “My new senses,” she said, clearly checking in with herself.

  “New senses?” Johnny asked.

  “She’s blind,” I said to Johnny, “so Stan at lunch gave her other senses, some extra power so that she could help us out. She’s just getting used to them.”

  “Stan?” Geneva asked.

  “Long story,” I said, not wanting to waste time right at that point explaining gambling gods to someone who wasn’t going to understand. “Just believe that like you two, she has some special senses.”

  Both Geneva and Johnny again nodded as one.

  “So what did you sense?” I asked Samantha.

  “Still sensing,” she said. “Ben is close. He’s in that machine and very much alive. I can tell he’s confused and a little angry and getting slowly tired.”

  “Is his energy being drained?” Patty asked. She had moved up to stand beside Samantha.

  Samantha nodded slowly. “Maybe. He’s getting tired.”

  Patty glanced at me. “The myth.”

  I nodded, agreeing. The power was more than likely coming from the people inside. And for the first time in some time I had an idea on how to solve this problem. Samantha held the solution to what we were facing. If she could somehow link to her husband and transfer that information to me, I might be able to figure out what to do next.

  “Screamer,” I said, motioning for him to come up beside us.

  “Samantha, you know how Screamer put the images of what Patty saw into your mind?”

  “You want him to put what I’m sensing into yours?” Samantha said.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Anything to help Ben get out of there,” she said, the strength in her voice clear and strong, now that she believed her husband was alive.

  I glanced at Screamer and he nodded his agreement. He touched my arm, then Samantha’s arm.

  For a moment everything went black, as if someone had turned out the lights in a windowless room. Then I realized what I was experiencing was Samantha’s blindness.

  I opened my mind up to the other senses, amazed at how the warehouse around me came back into focus in sort of an overlay with what I was seeing with my own eyes, only vastly enhanced.

  I could see the heat of each person, smell them, hear even their stomach’s rumbling. And all the thousands of sensory inputs were coming together to form a picture wit
hout color, yet very clear and accurate.

  I also suddenly knew Samantha’s memories, her fears, everything about her, and I had no doubt she knew everything about me.

  “Can you hear him?” Samantha asked.

  “Yes,” Screamer said.

  I realized there was a person, a presence I didn’t recognize from my own world, yet was very, very familiar to Samantha. I could see what she meant by sensing him. He was there, inside the machine.

  Ben was alive.

  All the people that had been taken were alive. I could sense that as well. They were existing in the wires, in the circuits of that machine. To them it felt like white corridors, forever twisting around on each other, with no exit. Most of them seemed to be walking those white corridors, getting more and more tired.

  Of the four machines, it seemed that only the one on the right had been taking people. They were all in there. I somehow just knew that fact.

  “Can you communicate with Ben?” Johnny asked from a place that seemed outside the world I was focused on. Part of my mind was in the white spaces of the circuits of the machine, part of my mind was still aware of the warehouse, with Samantha’s heightened senses as an overlay.

  I felt Samantha try to contact her husband. I felt her mind call out to him.

  But Ben didn’t respond, didn’t hear her.

  Screamer let go of both of us, breaking the image of the white place where the people were trapped.

  Breaking my contact with Samantha’s enhanced hearing and smells and feelings. It was as if I had suddenly gone from a full color movie to a black-and-white one. It was shocking the difference in attention to other senses rounded out the world around a person.

  “You all right?” Screamer asked Samantha.

  She nodded. “Ben can’t hear us. But he’s in there. All of the people are.”

  I glanced at Screamer and he nodded in agreement.

  “Can you talk to him,” Johnny asked. “Get those inside to shut down the machine?”

  “No,” I said.

  That way was a dead-end. But I was getting a glimmering of a plan.

  “Tech,” I said, “anything you can do to open those things up?”