The Song of Phaid the Gambler

by Mick Farren

  'I've got to take a rest from this.'

  Edelline-Lan nodded.

  'You're right. This guy's a bore. I don't go for these mutilation acts. There was this fat woman last week who had her left arm amputated. It was one big yawn. Why don't we go out on the terrace and get some air?'

  It was the best thing that Phaid had heard since he'd come into the place. He was already out of his seat and heading for the exit that led out to the terrace.

  In the back of the club, Phaid spotted a particularly sinister group around a single table. They were all men and they all wore black, cowled robes. Phaid glanced questioningly at Edelline-Lan.

  'They look like priests.'

  'They are.'

  'What the hell are they doing in a place like this?'

  'Watching the show, just like everyone else.'

  Phaid looked bemused.

  'But . . . priests?'

  'They seem to enjoy this sort of thing. I suppose they can get their kicks without jeopardising their vows of celibacy. Not that I've met too many priests who worried overmuch about their vows.'

  Phaid sniffed.

  'I guess we live and learn.'

  'I think, given the choice, I'd rather live than learn. Learning is generally such a tiresome business.'

  They stepped out on to the terrace and Phaid took a series of deep breaths of the chill night air. He suddenly needed to get all the sleaze of the Punishment of Luxury out of his lungs.

  Although the show was still going on inside, the terrace was fairly crowded. Flamboyantly dressed men and women strolled arm in arm, stood and gossiped or even embraced quite passionately in the shadowy corners. A few had android attendants trailing behind them. All exhibited that special grace that is unique to the naturally wealthy, the grace that can only be achieved by those who don't have to worry about the petty details of day to day survival.

  Beyond them, the night-time city spread out in all its tinsel glory. A million lights sparkled like jewels against the velvet blackness. From the vantage point of the terrace, the congested streets were transformed into glit­tering, luminescent serpents. The daytime grey buildings were now bright fingers pointing to the sky. Towering over everything was the floodlit sphere and grimacing giants of the line terminal. The terminal lights created a second halo on the clouds above. A train was coming in from the mountains in its own blaze of glory.

  Phaid stared, fascinated. By night the city was breath­takingly beautiful. The darkness successfully concealed the corruption, the crime and the misery that lurked behind the sparkling lights. Looking out from the terrace, it was almost impossible to imagine that, just a few hours earlier, he had been in the twilight zone hunting ground of Streetlife, Digits and the Scorpions.

  The city had successfully covered its diseased and pockmarked face behind a veil of man-made stars.

  Phaid's reflections were cut short, however, by a dig in the ribs from Edelline-Lan. She nodded towards a young man who had detached himself from a laughing, chatter­ing group and was coming in their direction.

  'Watch this one. There's more to him than meets the eye.'

  Phaid gave the man sa quick, covert scrutiny. Even amidst so much sparkle, he was positively dazzling. His coat was white silk with gold embroidery, his breeches a pale turquoise, tucked into knee boots of the softest white leather. His hairdresser must have spent many hours bleaching his hair down to the platinum white that it now was, and plaiting in the dozens of tiny pearls that caught the light as he moved. The young man had spared no effort to make himself exquisite.

  His skin had an epicene pallor. It was evident that he never saw the sun. His lips were full, and painted a bright crimson, so they looked as though they would be better suited to a young girl. The only contrast in the bland, effeminate face were the eyes. They were shrewd and calculating, the kind of eyes which, if Phaid were con­fronted with them across a gambling table, would cause him to pay a great deal of attention to their owner's play.

  The young man grasped both Edelline-Lan's hands and kissed her on the cheek.

  'Darling, I thought you were still out of town for the provincial season.'

  'I got bored and came home. I seem unable to stay away from the city for very long.-'

  The young man fluttered a heavily ringed hand.

  'Very sensible, my dear. There's really little of any worth in the provinces.'

  He turned his attention to Phaid. 'And is he a souvenir from your travels?'

  Edelline-Lan stepped in quickly as she saw Phaid's face darken.

  'This is Phaid. I met him on the train from Fennella.

  He's a professional gambler.'

  'How very exotic.'

  This didn't please Phaid either, but before he could react, the young man grasped him swiftly by the hand.

  'I am Roni-Vows. I'm a professional butterfly, and terribly pleased to meet you. My Lords, what callouses.'

  Phaid had just been noticing that Roni-Vows' grip was cold, moist and limp. It was a little discomforting to find that Roni-Vows had been examining his hand in the same way. Phaid increased the pressure of his own grip and grinned into Roni-Vows' face.

  'I took what you might call a rough way home.'

  Phaid couldn't help remembering Makartur's phrase, 'primping nelly'. The young man pulled his hand away.

  'So it would seem. Do you intend to stay in the city for long, Phaid?'

  'I don't plan to leave in the foreseeable future.'

  Roni-Vows regarded him archly.

  'Then if you desire to move in these circles, I would suggest that your manners could do with a little altera­tion.'

  Phaid's fists clenched.

  'You're going to give me a lesson in manners?'

  Roni-Vows' butterfly facade dropped away. He sudden­ly seemed capable and dangerous. His eyes narrowed.

  'You consider yourself a duellist?'

  Edelline-Lan grew angry.

  'Will you two stop this immediately! Next you'll both be boasting about how many men you've burned on the field of honour and sending our your seconds.'

  Roni-Vows glared at Phaid.

  'You think this . . . gambler could afford a second?'

  Edelline-Lan ran out of patience.

  'Cut this out. I won't stand for it. You're both my friends. You're both splendid fellows in your own ways and I really object to you stalking around each other like aggressive torn cats. You'll either stop or I'm leaving.'

  She looked first at Roni-Vows. His butterfly pose quickly returned.

  'I'm so sorry, darling, please don't go. How could I survive without you?'.

  She turned to Phaid.

  'And how about you?'

  Phaid hesitated, then took a deep breath.

  'Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry.'

  Edelline-Lan smiled and dipped a mocking curtsy. Without pause, she went right back to featherlight chatter as though nothing had happened.

  'Does the court continue to decay and decline Roni-Vows? I want to hear all the dirt I missed while I was away.'

  Roni-Vows made a contemptuous gesture.

  'It gets more dreadful by the day. There are people who are even neglecting their appearances, they're so busy plotting. The Grand Bitch hardly ever graces us with her presence.'

  'The Grand Bitch?'

  'Our glorious Life President. I suppose I shouldn't talk like that. The Secret Police will probably appear out of nowhere and haul me away.'

  Edelline laughed.

  'Not you. You could charm your way out of anything.'

  Roni-Vows looked serious.

  'It's happened to too many already; too many for comfort. I'm afraid it may be past the time for charm.'

  Edelline-Lan was scandalised.

  'I never thought I'd hear you speak like that.'

  'I fear the world is about to turn both dreary and dangerous. I'm not sure which is worse.'

  'But arrests at court? It seems scarcely possible. What's been happening in this city?'

  'Th
e Grand Bitch had lost her mind and that appalling elaihi has quietly taken control of both her and the Republic. She spends most of her time closeted with that bloodless monster. On the few occasions that she does condescend to emerge, she's usually in such a psychotic snit that nothing will calm her except the sight of rolling heads.'

  'But that's horrible. Can't something be done about the creature?'

  'There have been attempts, but we have to accept the very unpleasant fact that he is cleverer than we. The court isn't a happy place at the moment.'

  Phaid, who'd been thoughtfully silent, shot Roni-Vows an enquiring look.

  'Is this the elaihi Solchaim you're talking about?'

  'Who else, dear?'

  'That's interesting.'

  'Interesting?'

  Roni-Vows set aside some of his effeminacy.

  'You've had some experience with elaihim?'

  'I ran into some on the way here.'

  'The rough way home?'

  'Exactly.'

  'So what did you make of our superior cousins?'

  Phaid sensed that it wasn't just a casual question. Although Roni-Vows was doing his best to disguise it, he was clearly curious. This was exactly the response for which Phaid had been hoping. It proved that his first hand experience of the elaihim might indeed be of cash value in Chrystianaville.

  'I had the distinct feeling that they could get inside my mind.'

  Roni-Vows nodded slowly.

  'I suppose it's now my turn to look interested. Are you absolutely sure about this?'

  'Not absolutely, but I don't have any other explanation for what was happening to me.'

  'Hmmm . . .'

  Roni-Vows seemed to be about to say something, but instead was interrupted by an android that rolled up beside him. Its paint job was white and gold, and since it matched Roni-Vows' jacket, Phaid assumed that it was his property.

  'If-you-do-not-leave-now-for-the-Sar-Don-reception-you-will-be-more-than-fashionably-late.'

  The android's voice had been set to a suitably limp wristed tone. Roni-Vows was immediately galvanised into action. He quickly grasped the hands of both Edelline-Lan and Phaid.

  'I simply must run, I simply must run.' He looked quickly at Phaid. 'I'd like to talk some more about the elaihim with you.' He beamed. 'I know. Come and watch the wind games with me tomorrow. I'm having a little party on the roof of my building, you must be there.'

  Phaid didn't immediately accept so, once again, Edel­line-Lan took the initiative. 'We'd love to, wouldn't we?' Phaid nodded. 'We'd love to.'

  Roni-Vows ignored the implied sarcasm. 'Until then.'

  He swept towards the exit, throwing goodbyes and blowing kisses to left and right. The android followed at a discreet distance. Phaid whistled under his breath.

  'What the hell was that?'

  'I told you not to underestimate him. Under the popin­jay exterior, Roni-Vows is one of our shrewdest courtiers. What was all that about elaihim?'

  Phaid rubbed his chin.

  'I'm not sure. Maybe we'll find out tomorrow.'

  Edelline-Lan glanced at him sideways.

  'Deviousness must be catching.'

  Phaid smiled a guileless smile.

  'I'm not devious. I'm just a simple gambler.'

  Edelline-Lan eyed him thoughtfully.

  'I think you're going to fit into this town very well indeed.'

  'I intend to do my best.'

  'Could you do your best to think about where we should go next? It's starting to get chilly on this terrace.'

  'What options do we have?'

  'We could go back inside and watch some more of the show.'

  Phaid shook his head.

  'I think I've seen enough torture for one night.'

  'What you might call a low pain threshold?'

  'Something like that.'

  'It's the wind games tomorrow so the streets ought to be roaring. We could go down and mingle with the herd.'

  This idea, didn't appeal to Phaid either. He was altogether too freshly back from the slums to want to go slumming.

  'We could go to the Wospan district and get drunk.'

  Phaid still didn't look particularly enthusiastic. Edel­line-Lan grinned slyly.

  'Or we could go back to my home and bed.'

  'Bed?'

  'Bed. I think I'm ready to let you play, Master Phaid.'

  Phaid smiled and took hold of her hand. They had to pass back through the club in order to find the way out. On the stage, a dark skinned woman in a collar and little else was being strapped into a machine that would most probably inflict a variety of suffering on her. Edelline-Lan squeezed Phaid's hand.

  'Are you sure you don't want to watch this?'

  The machine was turned on and the young woman shrieked loudly.

  'I'd rather go home with you.'

  'I thought it might get you hot.'

  'I don't think I need any warming.'

  Edelline-Lan leaned close to him. Her tongue darted swiftly and moistly into his ear. They almost ran down the series of escalators that led to the parking lot. Hud-n, Edelline-Lan's android, waited with her custom flipper. Phaid smiled as he sprawled back on to the rich uphol­stery.

  'You never did tell me what your speciality is.'

  She moved over and pressed herself against him.

  'You don't have much longer to wait.'

  A lot later, as they lay in the soft red warmth of Edelline-Lan's enormous bed, drowsily watching them­selves in the mirrors on the ceiling, Edelline-Lan propped herself up on one elbow and peered into Phaid's face.

  'You're very good, you know.'

  'Thanks for the compliment.'

  'It's not a compliment. I mean it.'

  'Thanks all the same,'

  'Why are you a gambler?'

  'It's a living.'

  'Don't fob me off, I'm serious. What makes a man live the life of a gambler?'

  'I don't know. I haven't given it a great deal of thought. A lot of the time I've been too busy just surviving to consider what was motivating me. Self analysis is a rich folk's habit.'

  'You're bluffing. I don't believe this trash from the hills act. Sure you think. You're a hell of a lot deeper than you pretend.'

  'Maybe that's what it is about.'

  'What? I don't follow you."

  'Bluffing. Maybe that's really what the gambler wants. He can always bluff. He never has to reveal what he really is, what he really wants or what he's really playing for. Gamblers, actors, some criminals, a lot of people looking for power, they're all running the same thing, pretending to be something that they aren't. On the other hand, though, there's a lot of reality in being a gambler. Everyone's life is pushed and turned around by luck. Sometimes you get lucky and sometimes you don't. All the gambler does is ride it instead of letting it ride him.'

  Edelline-Lan was quiet for a while then she suddenly exploded.

  'You're impossible. You've told me nothing. That was just a bunch of romantic sounding nonsense.'

  Phaid lazily slid down in the bed. He closed his eyes.

  'What else did you expect?'

  He let sleep creep up on him. The next time he was conscious, sunlight was streaming through the windows. There had been so many strange beds in his life that Phaid no longer bothered about wondering where he was the moment he awoke. He just let himself drift through the empty space between first groggy consciousness and the point where the memory gears meshed and everything finally flooded back.

  There was a comfortable ache in nearly every muscle of his body. It was the kind of ache that went hand in hand with a healthy level of physical satiation. He stretched and regarded himself in the mirrored ceiling. The reflection that stared back at him didn't seem to be in all that bad shape. Certainly it looked to be at home lounging among silk draperies and satin pillows.

  Finally, he made the effort and sat up. In keeping with the size of the bed, the bedroom too was vast. A sump­tuous chaos of mirrors, dainty feminine furnitur
e, dis­carded dresses, underwear spilling from drawers, formid­able arrays of packaged, containered and bottled beauty and beauty removers. There were hats with feathers, shoes without companions and the debris from more than one night before.

  There was only one puzzle. Edelline-Lan had vanished without trace. Phaid climbed off the bed and padded across the littered floor. It looked, from even the most superficial examination, that Edelline-Lan's clothes budget would keep a fair sized family in food for a year or more.

  Phaid inspected himself from every angle in one of the many mirrors. There were long parallel scratches down his back from where her nails had raked it. Phaid chuckled to himself. A good night wasn't a good night unless you wound up with a few cuts and bruises. Edelline-Lan had certainly been a unique combination of enthusiasm, im­agination and stamina.

  He turned quickly as the door slipped open. Hud-n rolled in on discreet bearings. The android servant was carrying a tray that Phaid could only assume was break­fast.

  'My-owner-has-requested-me-to-inform-you-that-she-is-attending-to-some-pressing-business-and-that-she-will-be-with-you-shortly.'

  'Does she always start the day this early?'

  Hud-n didn't answer. Instead, it swept a pile of gar­ments off a low glass table and set the tray down. Both android and mistress seemed to share the same lack of regard for tidiness and order.

  'Do-you-need-anything-else?'

  Phaid took a look at the tray. There was a bottle of sparking wine, a jug of fruit juice, a mound of pate and a basket of hot rolls. There were also two small turquoise capsules. Phaid held up one of them.

  'What are these?'

  'My-owner-thought-you-might-require-a-slight-boost-after-your-strenuous-night.'

  'That's nice.'

  'It-would-not-be-a-good-idea-to-consume-them-before-breakfast-since-they-tend-to-suppress-the-human-appetite.'

  'Thanks for the tip.'

  ' You-are-welcome.'

  Hud-n made an exit that was just as silent as his entrance. Phaid realised that he was, in fact, very hungry. He moved in on the food with a will, munching his way steadily through everything on the tray. He was just washing down the capsules with the last of the wine when the door opened again.