The Game of Luck

by Catherine Cerveny

  I lay there, uncomprehending for a moment. But a moment was all I got; my body rose from the examination table and I dressed myself in the clothes I’d folded earlier. I had to admit that right then, having someone else drive my body wasn’t such a bad thing. I wasn’t capable of using it anyway—not in my current state. Not with the way my mind was, or rather wasn’t, functioning. Even so, I managed to stumble quite a bit. Streaks of pain from the exam lanced through me whenever I made a sudden move, none of which my hijacker noticed as I was marched from the exam room, through the ship, and to one of the passenger cabins.

  The lights snapped on when I entered, and I flopped on the bed. At first, the mattress was hard, lumpy, and didn’t care in the least about my aching body. Then the smart insert came to life, adjusting the mattress to conform to my body’s needs. I barely noticed. Or rather, noticed the way you would an insect buzzing past your ear before it zipped out of sight.

  My mind was still in the exam room, not sure it had processed the words correctly. No matter how many times I replayed them, I couldn’t quite get their meaning. What I’d heard couldn’t be right, could it? What they implied was impossible. Alexei had said as much. So had Karol. Yet, if my two examiners were to be believed, yes, it was right. It was possible.

  I was pregnant.

  21

  I wasn’t sure when I regained control of my body. I’d been lying there so long, mind and body reeling from the examination, I didn’t notice I could move again. I lay on my back, knees bent toward the ceiling. My hands rested on my stomach. Cradling it, I realized. A baby. Mine and Alexei’s. A family. I was going to make my own family.

  Seven sols. It must have happened after the kidnapping, when he’d come back from Olympia and said he would let me go. If I wanted to leave him, I could. If I wanted to be with someone else, I could do that too.

  And I’d said no.

  My future was with him. I’d firmly closed the door on a life that didn’t involve him in it. If I couldn’t have a child with him, there wouldn’t be one. End of story.

  Or so I believed.

  The luck gene had decided it didn’t like that version of the tale, so it created a different ending—because luck always sought its best advantage and to survive at all costs. When I’d denied luck the avenue it wanted, it had taken an alternate route. Or perhaps this was the route I’d been meant to take all along. Maybe this was just me fully committing to the right path. I had no idea. All I knew for certain was I was pregnant, and had no idea what to do next.

  I continued to lie there, wrestling with the tangled mess of feelings inside me. Confusion, obviously. Fear, because my current situation guaranteed that wasn’t going away anytime soon. But also a bittersweet joy so sharp, it was its own brand of pain. I was pregnant, with someone I loved, and he was gone. I would never see him again, because I’d killed him. Or rather, had been used as the means to kill him. That knowledge didn’t dilute the guilt or lessen a pain that promised to snap me in two. Going on without Alexei threatened to annihilate me. But now there was a baby—a week-old, barely-implanted-in-my-uterus baby. That meant I couldn’t lie there and die, or let myself be sold or my organs harvested. I needed to protect this life inside me. And that meant I needed to get the hell out of there, using whatever means necessary.

  Rolling off the bed, I tried the door first. Locked, which didn’t surprise me. What self-respecting kidnapper and body thief would make escape easy by leaving the door unlocked? Still, I needed to make the attempt.

  I’d been on the Martian Princess before. At the time, I’d been interested in the inner workings of what amounted to a cruise ship in space, so Alexei had arranged for me to meet the crew and have personal tours of the ship. That had been in between glorious bouts of reunion sex, when we couldn’t bear being away from each other for longer than five minutes. Looking back, it was a miracle I’d gone on the tours. Had my interest been real, or due to luck’s subtle prompting? Maybe I was questioning it too much. What did it matter so long as I knew the ship’s layout and how things operated?

  In preparation for the trip to Earth, the onboard AI would be readying each cabin for the month-long voyage. The AI provided passengers with access to shipboard entertainment and other services, and while every cabin started out with the same level of basic access, passengers could pay for upgrades. Most passengers accessed the AI through the CN-net, but there was also a direct AI link-up panel for real-world enquiries, typically used by younger children who couldn’t mentally connect with the CN-net yet.

  I tapped on the AI panel built into the wall, waking up the outsourced auto-tainment unit. As I’d hoped, basic CN-net connectivity was available. Looked like my hijacker hadn’t bothered isolating my cabin from the network. Maybe they hadn’t thought of it, or hadn’t cared if I accessed it or not. Either way, I decided to check it out.

  I tapped my way through the menus, looking to see what systems I could connect with. Leisure vids. Yes. Ship-wide messaging. No. Medical assistance. No, thanks. Pleasure treatments. My eyebrows rose. I could get a massage right now if I wanted it. Safety aids. Childminding options. The ship’s general welcome message, along with an itinerary sub-message and blinking attachment that looked suspiciously like an encryption virus.

  I went through the menus again, growing frustrated. Did I think I could snipe the system and bust out to freedom? Maybe, which just went to show how stupid I could be. I had a luck gene, not a brilliance gene. My mother had been a genius. I had flashes of insight that were handy, but not rocket science smarts. I was never going to think my way out of a situation using logic and intelligence. I used gut feelings and seat-of-my-pants intuition. And right then, the seat of my pants said, “Let’s hit the blinking attachment to the itinerary sub-message that looks like a virus, because why the hell not?”

  So I tapped the screen and launched the message.

  All at once, my implants unlocked. The niggling grain-of-sand feeling was back, itching throughout my brain. The suddenness of it made me wish I could stick a finger under my skull so I could scratch my brain, as if that might help. With the unlocking, my implants triggered, firing me off to the CN-net whether I wanted to go or not. I was aware of my body collapsing from the unexpected jolt and tumbling to the floor in a nerveless heap. Then that was forgotten as I opened my eyes and found myself in a typical One Gov conference room.

  Big table. Lots of chairs. Large windows. Familiar generic cityscape skyline showcased in the fake outside. My avatar wore its usual workplace outfit and I sat at the meeting table. For all intents and purposes, it looked like I waited for a One Gov staff meeting to begin.

  I sat for a few minutes, waiting for the big reveal. Was the bad guy going to appear and gloat, revealing his evil plan Konstantin Belikov style? Was I finally getting to the bottom of this horrible puzzle? Gods, I wished I had my Tarot cards. My luck gene might not be a factor when my mind was an electromagnetic pulse not ruled by biology, but I would have loved to have something to do with my hands.

  I didn’t wait long. The door opened, closed. I blinked. Clearly I was terrible at expecting the unexpected. You’d think I’d be better at this by now, but no. Still an idiot.

  Tanith Vaillancourt-Vieira. My grandmother.

  She looked ethereally gorgeous with her MH Factor beauty preserved by her Renew treatments. She wore a gauzy red off-the-shoulder tube dress and strappy high-heeled sandals. It made her look like she was headed to a nightclub for a killer party and had stopped in for a second because I was on her way.

  Seeing her like this, so sexy and formidable, enraged me. I knew the feeling was irrational—this was an avatar reflecting an idealized image. It wasn’t the real Tanith. But after everything I’d endured, I was entitled to my rage. I jumped up from the table and advanced on her.

  “Talk fast, Tanith, because I’m not in the mood for bullshit,” I said, my voice all but frosting the space around us with icicles.

  But icicles weren’t going to crack this partic
ular ice queen. “First, I want you to understand I never intended for any of this to happen.”

  Oh, fuck me. How many speeches had I heard that started off like this? The list was too long to count.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Right. Fine. Got it. Not your fault. Glad we’re clear on that. Now tell me what you did and how do you plan to get me out of this?”

  “You have to understand, I wanted you home.”

  “I am home,” I reminded her. “Or I was until yesterday.”

  “Back on Earth, I mean. I wanted my family back here in Brazil. You, Felipe…You’re all I have. Felipe and I may not seem to have a traditional relationship, but we love each other. More importantly, we understand each other. We agreed he would go to Mars and meet with you, while I would stay on Earth and handle Rhys. At the time, the plan seemed reasonable.

  “But it’s been six months. Felipe said you had no plans to return to Earth, so he was considering extending his stay. He approved of your marriage to that…man, despite who he is. I tried convincing Felipe he was wrong. Alexei Petriv wasn’t who you should be with. Then the reboot happened and all those deaths…I thought I could turn the situation to my advantage. I thought I could make you understand how important it was that you come home and be with your family.”

  I cut her off with a slicing motion of my hand. “Well since I’m locked up in a cabin on the Martian Princess about to be taken forcibly back to Earth, I guess you got what you wanted. But I already have one grandmother trying to control my life. I don’t need another one. What I need is someone to get me out of this disaster. I don’t know what your plan was or how you thought you were saving me from Alexei, but things have gone so fucking sideways, I can’t believe you’re responsible for all this. You’re usually much smoother when you get all Machiavellian.”

  “Sideways how?” was all she said. I heard concern in her voice, and it sounded like she meant it.

  “I’m in real trouble here. Worse, Alexei is…He’s dead and it’s all because of your fucked-up plan to get me back to Earth. I don’t know who you’re working with, but I’m trapped on the Martian Princess with people who plan to sell me when we get back to Earth. In fact, it sounds like they’ve already sold me to a buyer who plans to make use of my uterus so they can crossbreed the luck gene. So I need some goddamn help and not a meddling grandmother who thinks she’s doing the right thing and saving me from myself!”

  “No,” Tanith whispered, sounding horrified. “None of this is my doing. I swear it isn’t. I would never…Alexei Petriv is dead? How do you know this?”

  “Because I killed him!” I screamed at her, getting right in her face. “Someone took control of my body and made me kill him! I was fucking sniped and killed my own husband! Was that part of your plan too? Kill my husband? Sell me off to the highest bidder? Take advantage of the luck gene?”

  “No,” she said again, more vehemently now, the beautiful façade cracking as much as an avatar could. “I thought…I thought that I was in the right. Only I knew what needed to be done and how to handle this. And now Felipe is in a Renew tank fighting for his life and you’re kidnapped, and…I’m so sorry. All I wanted was to bring my family together, but now I see how they played on my feelings, using them to get at Alexei Petriv and tear us apart. Please forgive me. I never meant for this to happen.”

  I believed her. Her regret and guilt looked genuine. This wasn’t Monique I dealt with, after all. But her being sorry wouldn’t fix this. It would never bring Alexei back.

  I took a step back to study her. “Who do you think hijacked your plans? Who knew you wanted me back on Earth? More importantly, who else knows about the luck gene?”

  Her dark eyes narrowed and Tanith looked thoughtful. “There’s only one man I confided in, despite my better judgment. Puta que pariu, I can be such a fool sometimes. Not having Felipe here has made me needy.”

  I’d never once heard Tanith swear, so this was a first. Fucking hell was right. “Who?” I pressed.

  She gave a bitter laugh. “Rhys Arkell, of course. I may not want to admit it, but it’s impossible to keep secrets from a man you’re sleeping with.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake!” I shouted at her, throwing my hands up in frustration. Talk about putting the cherry on top of this whole, sordid sundae of events. “You’re sleeping with Secretary Arkell? Does Felipe know?”

  She hunched her shoulders, the move more defensive than repentant. “He encouraged it, thinking it was the best way to keep tabs on Rhys’s plans. Felipe might think him a simpleton, but he’s never liked Rhys. It makes him shortsighted and hypercritical. He didn’t believe Rhys could manage a plan with any level of complexity. He was wrong. We both were. Now we’re paying the price.”

  I wanted to gawk at her in openmouthed shock, stunned by the layers of manipulation. Was this what Felipe and Tanith were willing to do to keep control of the tri-system? Was it really necessary to sink to such a dark, twisted place to win this game? Worse, would I have to become like them to survive? No, I had to focus on what was in front of me if I wanted to get out of this mess. I’d have to deal with the rest later.

  Secretary Rhys Arkell. Had he replaced Belikov as my new King of Swords? I hadn’t gotten the evil-mastermind vibe from the man. Still, it wasn’t out of the question; I’d never met him in person and gut feelings didn’t exist on the CN-net. Maybe I’d missed something.

  “Do you think he’s the one who bought my uterus?” I asked, not caring how crude it sounded. “Is this how he thinks he can exploit the luck gene? By getting me pregnant?”

  Tanith looked stunned. “I…I don’t know.”

  “Could he be the one hunting down my family members? Are people working on his orders, rounding up my family to harvest our organs then throw the unwanted leftovers into mass graves?”

  I wasn’t sure it was possible for an avatar to pale, but Tanith’s did. “What are you saying?”

  I ignored her and pressed on. “Is he the one who set the trap that caused the drone surge?”

  “Trap? Do you have details about the reboot?”

  I was in so deep now, holding back particulars hardly seemed relevant. “Alexei and I were nearly caught in the drone surge. We were looking for whoever was hunting my family, and discovered my family’s DNA had been booby-trapped through the Renew repository. Anyone who went poking around my family’s records would trigger an automatic AI queenmind response and release a drone surge.”

  “You’re saying you and Alexei caused the reboot? You murdered those people and said nothing?” Tanith asked.

  “Gods, of course not!” I shouted, frustrated, guilty, exhausted, and wishing all my hopes didn’t rest on this woman. “You’re not listening. That isn’t how it happened and we would never intentionally do something like that!”

  “Alexei Petriv might—”

  “He would never have caused the drone surge.” I all but spat the words at her. “I’m saying whoever wants the luck gene caused it. They’re so desperate to get their hands on my family’s DNA and whatever benefit they think they’ll get from the gene, nothing else matters. We got caught in their fucking drone surge bear trap and nearly killed!”

  Tanith closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to think about this. Rhys would never sabotage the CN-net. He would never unleash something like that on all those innocent people. He’s ambitious, but not to the extent you’re suggesting.”

  “It’s the luck gene, Tanith. You have no idea what sorts of stupid things people have done to control it—with your daughter being one of them.”

  “I don’t like what you’re implying, Felicia. What you’re suggesting could topple One Gov.”

  “Suggesting what?” I snarled at her. “That Arkell is a kidnapper? That he used me to eliminate his political rival—my husband? Or that he nearly killed Felipe? That he’s a mass murderer? Which suggestion don’t you like? They’re all horrific.”

  Tanith looked shocked as I listed each of Ark
ell’s potential crimes. Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to deny the accusations but couldn’t. Then she let out a resigned breath and said, “Whatever Rhys may have done, I can’t let One Gov be destroyed. It represents something greater than one person and its ideals are too important. Without One Gov, the tri-system falls apart.”

  “Are you blind? It’s already falling apart! Venus is left to fend for itself. Mars is bloated on fabulous wealth it won’t share. Earth sticks its head in the sand, content to create stifling rules that never fix the problems. No one needs that kind of leadership. We don’t need One Gov!”

  “Yes, we do,” she insisted.

  “So you’ll let Arkell use me, thinking he can exploit my luck gene to solidify his power? Here’s the thing, Tanith, he can’t. Monique discovered luck has rules and you can’t manipulate them. I will never use my luck on that asshole’s behalf. And if he thinks he’s going to get me pregnant for some twisted crossbreeding project, that’s not happening because my uterus is already occupied. There’s no way in hell he’s coming near me or my baby. So what I need is for you to get me out of here before he thinks up some way to exploit that too.”

  A moment of silence before her eyes widened. When she spoke, the words were a reverent whisper. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Apparently. Two medical goons were about to cut me open and examine my internal organs when their scans showed I was pregnant.”

  “A baby? My great-grandchild?”

  Gods, were we even speaking the same language? “Yes, your great-grandchild.”

  Tanith’s entire demeanor changed. Her expression softened, no longer unapologetic and defensive. Instead, I saw surprised wonder, like I’d offered her a basket full of kittens, each one more adorable than the next. Then a look of determination replaced that wonder. In fact, if I hadn’t been burning with my own righteous fury, I might have found her expression terrifying.

  “Rhys isn’t touching my great-grandchild,” she said, our argument dying an abrupt and sudden death.