April

by Mackey Chandler

  The story tempted April to turn on the video to see such a strange thing. Not that anyone could demonstrate skipping any amount of wedding cake in Atlanta, would fill a beggar's bowl with rice in the Sudan, but there were always guilt ridden people who felt they should suffer and were eager to help their fellows experience the rush of righteous self denial.

  April wondered if they might have fresh strawberries today again. All the talk about food made her hungry. They did. She had a lighter than usual supper, anticipating a workout and faced the challenge of transporting her swords to the gym when she returned home. She had promised Jon a look at them and several others were interested. It would be great if somebody could do some of the graceful exercises with them, she had seen on videos. She didn't want to have them bang together, or bump on things along the way, but she didn't want to pack them up in the big shipping box either.

  By next week she'd have a ballistic cloth carrier she ordered, with padding and pockets which would separate the weapons from bumping and had a shoulder strap. But what about tonight? She could leave them home, but really wanted to show them and one of Jon's friends had promised to display handling them. She was dressed in black, a black silk blouse and loose legged black pants with a black sash belt just for show.

  She went in her room and took the small blade from the rack, sticking it in the sash like she had seen in pictures and in proportion to her size it made sense. It also looked wicked as hell in the mirror. However the big blade was so huge she would have been tripping over it and dragging it on the carpet. She didn't want to just hand carry it. It was heavy, but she could sling it across her back if she had something to attach it to. A little digging found an old ballistic cloth vest, from an Australian trip her brother had outgrown and handed down. It had lots of Velcro pockets and ties and rings, for camping or as a camera vest and a stuff pocket on the rear she could put her exercise shorts and a T-shirt in. It was beaded solid with millimeter half spheres of solar powered nano-gap cooling modules. In full sunlight it would be pleasantly cool inside.

  It was a slightly shiny black, of a stiff coarse fabric, with a stand up collar that hid a hood and looked good zipped partly open to show the blouse. It supported the big sword clipped behind the collar on the right, without being pulled all out of shape, like a soft garment would be. The handle stuck up behind her shoulder wickedly.

  April was really getting into the look in the mirror. It worked. The black clothing and black sheathed blades looked sinister. Her black cape went over the vest swept back off the shoulders. It looked even nastier and made her smile.

  She could put her left hand on the grip of the short sword in her sash and it kind of reminded her where it was hanging, so she didn't bang it on door frames and such. It made her elbow thrust out and she could feel the long sword hanging down against the back of her arm and keep track of it too. She experimented with reaching back over her shoulder with her right hand and she could reach the grip. She thought she could probably even pull it out, but doubted her control. It took considerable force to start the blade out. She knew if she did draw it she'd never get it back in, without taking everything off and starting all over. She played, posing for the mirror, thinking Heather's brother Barak would love doing this and got the giggles, but figured if you are going for a look don't do it by half measures, so she borrowed a massive silver neck chain she had seen her brother wear and changed her ear rings to silver with Onyx.

  A black beret she had borrowed from her grandpa and never got around to returning made sense also. Her scanner, pad and laser on the sash added just the right high tech look to match the big wrap around spex which went with her laser and she took a black braided drawstring cord which had come out of a hood and gathered the sash in a bunch at the front with an X of the cord. It was an interesting combination of ancient and modern. In the mirror she was delighted with the effect. She didn't bother to hide the laser under the cape, because it looked like any of a bunch of common items people carried on a belt. Nobody glanced at it. She tried pulling the lesser blade out just enough to show steel and scowling, hamming it up for the mirror.

  She tried stepping and turning to see how the cape moved but it was hard to see in the mirror so she set her pad down with the camera set wide and watched herself in her spex. If she stepped forward briskly and turned it flared out and swirled nicely behind her. Her mother had told her stories about dressing up for trick or treating in rural California and she thought this outfit would wow the natives if she went door to door in it. She headed for the gym in a good mood, ready to make a showy entry for her friends.

  The gym was in full gravity, but almost straight across the axis, so rather than walk around the long way with all the extra junk she went down corridor a bit to where the business section started and waited for the elevator to cut across. It was hard to know what to do with her arms with all this unfamiliar stuff hanging where her arms usually went without thought. Standing there it seemed easier to slip her thumb in the sash behind the shorter sword. It was unbalanced with nowhere for the right arm to go and pretty soon she found a thumb hooked in the sash on the right was balanced. With both elbows poked out, the natural thing was to stand with the legs braced apart. It was a cocky swaggering pose.

  She was thinking hard about a number of things, while the elevator took forever. When the doors finally opened up, the two fools inside just stood there like a couple dummies. How was she supposed to get in if they didn't come out? She didn't really mean to scowl at a couple strangers, but she made eye contact with the Japanese man in the neat business suit and saw a brief flash of quizzical surprise quickly replaced by an absolute mask. Then he startled her with a very formal bow in her direction.

  She quickly returned it awkwardly. With her thumbs hooked in her sash and the heavy sword pulling her back it was a stiff little bow, but it would look really stupid to try a second time to do it better. She probably looked haughty as hell she thought in dismay, as she passed him into the elevator and turned around.

  It wasn't until the doors were closing and she looked at the backs of the two stopped outside in the corridor that she saw the video camera floating on the second man's shoulder. He was showing the executive type something on a bright hand pad, cabled to the vid. Oh crap, she thought. They shot my pic and I look like a fool on my way to a costume party. Why didn't I just stuff it all in a big duffel bag?

  When she got to the gym however Jon and his friends took her outfit in the right spirit and clapped their hands and hooted their approval. She shed the costume for her exercise outfit and started learning the basics exercises she needed, for the strengths and motions to catch up with the group. She didn't draw them herself but watched Jon, Jeff and another man go through a series of exercises with the swords.

  They called both the bare handed exercise and the sword Thai Chi. They had a surreal quality, but all the grace of ballet, combined in with imprinting the practical motions on the mind. Her gene mods would be an enormous advantage and just like when she ran, she took medication which enhanced the training value of the motions. Her potential due to the gene mods meant she had a much wider envelope of performance than an unmodified human, if she trained to it.

  Chapter 19

  Ernie felt calmer in the morning. He was sure the fuss over his big win the night before would have settled down, but he reasoned on it and decided very few people could afford more than a week and a two or three day stay was not uncommon on New Las Vegas. It was Thursday and he would just hole up in the room and enjoy himself and the few people who had witnessed his jackpot the previous night would mostly be gone soon and anyone very interested in him would soon conclude he left quietly, if he didn't show on the floor.

  He'd stay out of the lobby or casino until the weekend, when a lot of people left for home and a new crowd came in. After all he had a multimillion EM credit and was not even running the account down, since the hotel had made him their guest. They surely wouldn't say anything if he took a break. T
hey'd hope he would return to the tables after a few days off. He'd just tell them to charge him for his room and service, if they started getting anxious about him staying away from the tables. Even Eddie couldn't complain about the small bite it would put on his winnings.

  He resolved to enjoy himself and stop fretting. There was a football match on today. Argentina against the English and he'd place a couple bets with the house by com and watch the game with a pleasant antipasto and good wine. The day just flew away with his new plan and he was even up substantially on his three bets. The Argentineans had just squeaked past the English at the last and he had found himself shouting out loud to cheer them on. This is the life, he thought. With a little thought and luck he could never drop back into sleeping in hot slots and prowling around scratching up enough dirt to get some tips for information.

  He ordered up a memorable dinner. A couple grilled lobster and an asparagus salad, with a lovely old pale Australian Champagne and a amazing desert which seemed to be mostly sweet egg whites beaten so light they should float away, with tiny flecks of pistachio and almonds and a trace of some delicate liqueur, all browned faintly golden in little bite size pieces with tiny sweet strawberries and golden raspberries.

  The Champagne with desert switched to a genuine vintage bottle of sweet French Champagne. The label was brittle and yellowed with age and still had a dusty veneer from being in an Earthie wine cellar. He could just make out the date as 1990 something. He was lazy and full and just slightly buzzed from the bubbly, when room service came in to take the carts and a handsome couple came in he had been promised to provide some after dinner music.

  It spoiled the mood when the cart mover turned and put a huge old fashioned revolver to his forehead and the lady took a rather heavy looking automatic weapon from her cello case and deployed it on a sturdy muzzle bipod facing the door. Her partner unfolded his flute case and produced some rather complicated looking electronic apparatus. The other serving person went over and jammed a heavy telescoping brace under the door knob and after extending it firmly against the carpet, fixed it in place with a twist of a locking collar in the middle.

  He hadn't noticed the second server seemed rather old and heavy for this sort of work. It was usually a younger person's job. Satisfied with the door he took a chair, brought it over and sat down straddling it regarding Ernie. All indications were he was making himself comfortable for a long sit.

  It was just fine if he settled in with Ernie, because it must mean the fellow with the revolver was not going to blow his head off just yet. He sat very still and waited to see what they wanted. He was not sure how he could transfer his winnings to them, but if they wanted to do so, they must have a way. He would be happy to accommodate them, if it increased his chances of surviving this in the slightest.

  He must have looked like he was tempted to speak, because the older fellow raised a single index finger in a universal gesture which said - wait.

  The fellow with the electronics came over and placed a couple wireless electrodes like he had seen used in the hospital, on his wrists and his temples, peeling the backs off them and carefully putting the shiny paper squares in his pocket as he worked. Each had a complex maze of aluminized lines on the back, which must be an antenna. Another two went on the sides of his neck, along with a tiny adhesive microphone. The man gave the seated leader a nod and went back to his instruments.

  "I'm Justine Persico young fellow. Does the name mean anything to you?"

  "Yes Sir," he replied. "You must be related to Eddie."

  "That's right. Now, you notice nothing bad has happened to you. I'm a very reasonable man and I have politely introduced myself. In a little bit we will either be friends or you will be dead, so nothing lost by being mannerly. Eddie is such a nice young man he always expects people to act with courtesy and I'd hate to disappoint him. Nothing bad has happened to Eddie has it?" he asked, with a very concerned look.

  "No sir, not I'm aware of at all. I'm actually just doing a favor for Eddie. He went on to ISSII yesterday on the shuttle and I am supposed to stay here and generate enough activity with his card and pretend to be him, so people think he's here on vacation. I'm not sure what he's doing on the other station, but I'm sure it has to be something to do with his job for Security on M3 and it would probably mess it up if I even try to contact him."

  Justine looked at the instrument techie, got a confirming nod and a surprised raise of the eyebrows and then a stretched pursed lipped look which clearly said "I'll be damned." It obviously was not what they were expecting.

  Justine waved the gunman off. He returned his revolver to a holster under his jacket and stood back, but still kept an eye on Ernie. Ernie felt a flood of relief and felt his legs start to shake and had an urgent need.

  "Uh, Mr. Persico the champagne is kinda running through me. Do you mind if I run in and use the bathroom?"

  "Go ahead, but I'm sorry, you need to leave the 'trodes on. I'll still have a few more questions when you come out."

  He walked away shaky and relieved himself and wiped his face with a wet wash cloth before going back out.

  Justine had moved the chairs over to the table facing each other and poured himself a glass of champagne. He waved Ernie into the other chair and filled the other delicate deep flute for Ernie with his own hand.

  "I don't mean this for an apology, because I was just looking out for my nephew and family is very important to me, but I'll explain. It just looked really badly to us when Eddie was booked in here and came in, but the next thing we know he hasn't been booked out, but his card is being used by a fellow with a similar face and a reputation as a bit of a dock rat when he was younger."

  "We couldn't find a body, but we were very concerned you had committed an identity theft and perhaps caused him to come to some harm. Are you being helped in this charade to make him appear to be here, by anyone else on station?"

  "No Sir. I didn't think I'd need any help. I mean it was basically a free vacation for me. I'd get a few days in a hotel room, when I've been renting hot slots to sleep in because I was almost broke and some free meals. He even said to go ahead and play the tables a bit, but take my time and bet small, because he didn't want me to run up more than about five thousand EM in losses."

  Justine looked at him real hard. "And you mean you didn't have an insider in the casino set you up for a win on the Big Shot?"

  "Not only didn't have any help, but I was horrified when all the lights and whistles went off. It was just a stupid whim to drop a chip in it. I had never seen it without somebody sitting feeding it. Usually there are even a few lined up waiting to sit down and play. So when I saw it empty I just thought I'd pop a chip in because I've never played it. I thought it would be fun just to be able to say I had really played it, since it's so famous."

  "I mean when somebody mentions the Wooden Nickel you right away picture the Big Shot 'cause it's always what they show first in any ad for the casino. It's way too rich for my blood, but I had a hundred Euro chip, which is the smallest you need to play it - and I thought, what the hell? What are the odds?" he asked in dismay.

  Justine and all the others roared with laughter.

  "Actually Eddie would kill me if he knew what a spectacle I made of myself. Here I'm supposed to stay low key and I had every eye in the place on me. I must have been stopped a dozen times before I could get back to the hotel, with every sort of bizarre proposition and that's in the middle of the night with the place almost empty. I was going to hole up in the room for a few days and let the fuss die down."

  "I don't know what Eddie will do when he finds out. He's so easy going I'm hoping he'll let me have some of what I won in his name." Ernie was so sure he wasn't going to be shot out of hand, he felt bold to ask something he wondered. "Uh, mister Persico, I somehow always thought your, uh, families always used men exclusively in their business dealings. I'm surprised to see the lady with you."

  Justine's eyebrows went up. "Ernie," he said and managed to make
his name sound like a reproof, "times change and you have to adopt to the new customs, or die out. Would you deny Mary there a chance to make her way in the world? Does she look like a woman who would return meekly to the days of denial and sexual harassment?"

  Ernie looked up at the cold eyes on the beauty and the deep black muzzle hole of her weapon, with the faint swirl of rifling spiraling away inside and couldn't imagine anyone harassing her about anything, if he enjoyed breathing regularly. He just nodded and dropped it.

  Justine nodded also in apparent agreement and thought a bit. "You know, this kind of money can have a bad effect on people. Here's what I propose. We'll call a friend of mine who offers private banking services and he'll come by and open a regular bank debit account for you with the 50 million EM. He has a relationship with the house and it will appear to be a currency transaction, at much lower fees and save my nephew all sorts of embarrassing questions and taxes too. That leaves him in a much better position to reward you too. It will leave you about 5 million Euros on the house card."

  "Then you're going to move to another hotel and play in another casino on the remainder. The casinos on NLV all take each other's cards with no problem. You won't even really cash out, until you want it transferred to an external institution and we'll worry about that then. We will take the new card you have, with the 50 million credited to it, hand deliver it to my nephew and let him know what happened. Whenever he's done with his business on ISSII he can settle up with you anyway he wants. So we are trusting you with a considerable amount and just safeguarding my nephew's interests."

  "He may need some help over there and we'll see if there is anything we can do for him. My man Earnest here - he indicated the revolver carrier - will go along and act like he is a body guard you hired, to keep the curious away. No charge for his service," he said brightly, like he was giving Ernie a big gift.