Page 71 of Pets in Space 10
“No thank you, sir. Should I go back to work now?” She hoped he’d agree because being a mere spectator to a game she didn’t understand was boring.
“Oh seven hells no. You’re here the whole night and we’re going to take the entire pot, just you wait and see. Stay there.” Sutton got up, lit a feelgood stick and wandered off to chat with a knot of his entourage.
Getting to her feet, she stretched to work out the kinks from sitting in the hard chair.
***
Mike Remington was content with his place in life.
He’d worked long and hard to achieve the success he now had, managing the casino operations on the Nebula Zephyr.
After he got out of the military he’d worked at a variety of planet-based casinos, in all the possible jobs, from bouncer to bartender to dealer.
He’d played all the known games of chance in the Sectors, knew how to cheat and how to spot cheats.
This wasn’t his first job running a casino but he’d be content for it to be his slot till a hopefully long distant retirement.
The Zephyr was a class act, well run, attracting the middle of the road passengers who’d come to his casino, drink his feelgoods and gamble, losing steadily but content to have it as part of their vacation cruise.
Some would win — the casino abided by the Interstellar Commerce Commission’s Gaming Laws and a certain percentage of the slot machines and other automated gambling apparatuses paid off every hour.
Other passengers would pit their skills against his dealers and Lady Luck at the various tables and might win, might lose.
The house always won eventually. Few people walked away from a winning streak.
Mike grinned, watching one such passenger right now in fact, who’d scored a big win at the craps table and instead of cashing in, was now steadily losing it all back, much to the annoyance of his wife.
As he stood there the wife scooped a pile of colorful chips into her purse and stalked away toward the cashier.
Mike nodded to one of his unobtrusive security guys and the man followed her to make sure she didn’t have any trouble.
Walking onward, Mike made his rounds through the large hall where the slots and other games were set up.
His attention was caught as a woman surreptitiously palmed a forbidden device which would cause the machines to give a payout prematurely and sure enough as he walked up to her, the bells and sirens went off, announcing a big winner.
He took her elbow. “Congratulations. Too bad you cheated,” he said in a quiet voice.
She pulled against his grip and he tightened his hold. “I saw the chenko wedge. It’s in your pocket right now in fact.”
A crowd was gathering, drawn by the woman’s apparent success and no doubt hoping her luck would rub off on them. There’d be a rush for her machine as soon as she walked away. Even though it had just paid out, some people believed lightning would hit twice, trying to outthink the casino.
“Let’s step to the office and handle your win,” he said to the woman.
She glared at him but knew she was cornered, so she walked with him as if it was her idea.
Several of his people closed in around them, making sure the group could cross the gaming floor without interruption and a team of two Nebula Zephyr security officers were already waiting in his office to take custody of the cheat and her custom-built tool.
Mike gave a brief statement of what he’d witnessed, signed it with his thumbprint and she was on her way to the brig. Her winnings were forfeit.
Back onto the floor Mike went, continuing his routine of surveying all the pieces of his domain.
His next stop would be the hall of private gaming rooms, where his second category of guests was busily gambling in luxurious privacy.
Taking a cruise on the Nebula Zephyr was considered to be almost required for the glitterati, the celebrities, the Socialites and the generational billionaires, all of them bored and eager to taste the excitement of bigtime gambling.
He got them all, thanks to the ship’s sterling reputation, her outstanding amenities, and the ICC gaming laws, which were much more lax aboard a ship like this one, in the Nebula class, than on any planet in the Sectors.
The rich people he courted and considered essential would never go off to the Hinterlands to experience truly lawless, anything-goes gambling in its rawest forms. Mike had been there too, in his long journey to this position.
He much preferred the civilized atmosphere here.
One of his senior waitresses, Mardri, came up to him. “Boss, the new girl’s in the briquilliat room.”
“What the seven hells is she doing in there?”
“Don’t be mad at her, Sutton decided she was his lucky charm tonight and kinda dragged her in with him. I don’t think she’s ever even heard of the game before, but she’s doing her best to keep him happy.”
“Is he winning?”
“Actually, from what I saw, yes. Took the first round. I’m trying to keep an eye on her when I go in and out. They’re on break right now.”
“Thanks, Mardri, I appreciate it. Guess I’d better go see how the play is going in there then.
If his luck turns and he loses, he isn’t going to be taking it out on my employee, not even a floater.
” With mixed emotions Mike adjusted his routine and headed for the employees only hallway.
He found the dealer for the alien game taking his break in the tiny room allotted for the purpose and the man shot to his feet when Mike walked in.
“Stand down, not here to give you a hard time,” Mike said, waving the dealer into his chair. “Heard you got a kibitzer in there who doesn’t belong.”
“Sutton brought her in,” the dealer said, confirming what Mardri had said. “You know how he gets with his superstitions.”
“She a ringer? Or a plant? Giving him tips? Spying?”
“No, sir, she seems pretty bewildered, actually. Hasn’t said two words, just sits and smiles and blows on the dice when he tells her to.” The dealer smothered a laugh. “No secret signals. You know I’d catch it if there were.”
Mike pulled up the holo footage from the surveillance cameras and ran the game at high speed, paying close attention to Dahlia and her interactions with Sutton.
As the dealer had said, he didn’t see any funny business.
“All right, I’m going in to do my gladhanding bit,” he said. “Delay a couple minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
Opening the door to the actual gaming room, Mike strode through and sized up the crowd, which consisted of the usual mix of hangers-on the generational billionaires tended to surround themselves with.
Harmless for the most part and without the credits to gamble deep on their own.
The six remaining whales were each holding court in nicely spaced spots.
He circulated, greeting each, accepting compliments on his casino and making mental notes on a few small gripes which various people raised as he spent a few moments with his high priority guests.
He passed by the gaming table on his way out, pausing beside Dahlia. “Enjoying the evening?”
“I’m sorry about this, sir, I know me being here leaves you short handed out there,” she said, voice shaky. “But you did say at the staff standup Mr. Sutton was to have whatever he wanted.”
Mike blinked, breaking his fascinated concentration on her deep blue eyes as she licked her lips. He straightened, chiding himself for the thoughts he was now entertaining about his temporary employee and what she’d be like in a more intimate setting, just the two of them. Focus, idiot.
“If you want to dock my pay for the night because I’m sitting here watching the game, I understand,” she was saying.
“Of course not, although I appreciate the offer,” he answered. “You’re taking care of the guests, which is the highest priority.” Eyeing the chair she’d been given, which looked to him like it belonged in a dump, he added, “This was the best anyone could do?”
Dahlia was philosophical. “It’s better than standing the whole night. I gotta tell you, these heels are killer on a girl’s feet.”
“Maeve must have gotten the size wrong,” he said, glancing at her feet.
“I’m not used to heels,” she said. “Maeve’s been accurate with all my uniforms so far — the dress fits perfectly.”
So it does. Mike bit his lip. The casino’s dress code for employees was sexy and Dahlia did the costume full justice. He wasn’t going to voice any of those compliments. Totally inappropriate. “Going to become a briquilliat player yourself after tonight?”
She blushed and leaned closer. “Actually, I think it’s confusing and kinda boring. I’m people watching mostly. I never spent any time with so many high-class types, only seen them on trideo soap operas, you know?”
The door at the back opened and the dealer walked in. Immediately the players converged on the table, eager to resume the game and claim a chunk of the huge amount of credits being won and lost. Sutton approached Mike, clapping him on the shoulder. “Great place you’ve got here, Remington.”
“I hear you’re having a good run tonight,” Mike said as Dahlia retreated a step to allow the two men to chat.
“Found my lady luck out there on your floor at the roulette table,” Sutton said, pointing at Dahlia. “Keeping her close.”
They continued chatting and Mike, who was an old pro at talking and using the subaural com at the same time, asked Dahlia, Are you okay with this?
Startled, she put her hand to her lips and stared at him. Her answer was deliberate and carefully enunciated and he could tell she was a novice at using the sophisticated com. It’s fine, sir, really.
You have a problem or feel the least bit uncomfortable, call me, understand? He turned to leave the room but shot her a glance. He wasn’t sure why but he felt adamant about this and ensuring she knew she was protected.
I will. Thanks.
Her voice in his head was sweet and a little shy.