by Gini Koch
“Approaching Roulette,” Doven said over the intercom. Roy sighed as we stood up. I stayed with Bullfrog while he headed back to the cockpit.
“Nice haul,” Bullfrog said when we were alone. “No compunction from anyone about stealing from Diamante?”
“None. Andromeda’s my kind of planet.” So was Roulette, an entire planet devoted to gambling, betting, and other related pursuits. No extradition, either. Though we weren’t going there to hide—we were going to collect our winnings.
Willy joined us. He was our ship’s engineer and usually stayed below decks, just in case. “Missed you, little girl,” he said as he seated himself next to Bullfrog. We all strapped in for landing. “What was it like?”
“Like the other times.”
I liked the King and Queen of Andromeda. They didn’t want to make their daughters marry jackasses or jerks. But Andromeda wasn’t a rich planet, resources-wise. So, King Oliver had, long ago, been more than willing to go in on what we called the Royal Scam. We had a lot of scams, of course, but this one was near and dear to everyone’s heart.
Roy’s in particular.
Diamante, on the other hand, had a set of Royal Families that made the Old Earth Borgia’s from millennia ago look like the kindest saints in the galaxy. They were rich, one of the richest planets in the galaxy. Yet they longed for more—they wanted to be considered legitimate monarchs, not just rich merchants who dressed up and put on crowns.
They longed for other things, too. Old Earth had finally given up the idea of genetic purging before they’d expanded out to explore and help populate the rest of the galaxy. But the Diamante Families didn’t like certain races and planets, and they’d spent a dozen years proving that, back when most of us on the crew were children.
Of all the planets out there, I hated Diamante more than any other.
I felt the ship shift, just a little, meaning we were coming into range of Roulette’s sensors. Doven’s talent again. Altering the ship’s general shape and changing the call letters was child’s play for Doven, especially after making the ship “disintegrate” in front of thousands of witnesses.
Roy wasn’t exaggerating—he had a great crew.
We landed, and all nine of us gathered together. Roy always had us do this before disembarking, so he could brief us and make sure no one gave him or Ciarissa a bad feeling. Roy trusted Ciarissa’s telepathic skills, but he trusted his own gut even more.
Dr. Wufren, Tresia, and Kyle joined the rest of us by the main cabin exit. Dr. Wufren gave me some round, red and white discs. Of course, being a telekinetic, he floated them to me. They spun around, doing a pretty dance in the air.
I put out my hand, and the discs landed neatly on my palm. “Gaming chips from the Joint?”
“From my last visit,” Dr. Wufren replied, his watery blue eyes twinkling. “I was unable to exchange them for something more useful.”
“Because we were too busy running away after you got caught cheating,” Roy reminded him.
Dr. Wufren shrugged. “One must keep one’s hand in, my boy. As you well know. DeeDee my dearest, will you please arrange to exchange these lovelies for something lovelier still?”
“Of course.”
“I could do it,” Kyle offered.
Dr. Wufren chuckled. “I’m sure you could, my boy. I’m sure you could.”
I laughed. “Trying to steal my job, Kyle?”
Kyle was a mini-Roy. Smaller all the way around, but still obviously Roy’s younger brother. He flashed me the family grin. “Nah. Nice to see you back, DeeDee. Bro’s been a pain to be around. I’ve had to hang with the doc and Willy to stay out of the line of fire.”
“Kyle even helped me in the galley.” Tresia tousled Kyle’s hair with one of her pincers. “Never thought a human could really help much, but I have to say, he’s good.” Since Tresia was a humanoid arachnid, this was quite a compliment. “Kyle’s not exaggerating. Roy was more than a little…testy…while you were gone.”
“Yeah, right,” Roy muttered, looking embarrassed. “There was a lot going on.”
I linked my arm through his. “Oh yeah, tough guy? Why don’t you tell me all about it while we see what our payout is.”
Ciarissa handed me the cloak. I took a risk, wearing it off the ship right after Princess Olivia’s “death,” but it was part of how we proved the scam had worked. I’d made sure the cloak was expensive but not all that rare—anyone with enough credits could have purchased it, from a variety of planets.
“Fine. I want everyone other than DeeDee and Bullfrog to stay on the ship and be ready to run at a moment’s notice,” Roy said. “We may have to make a fast exit, and I don’t want to end up stranded or captured because someone’s off gambling. Or anything else,” he added with a glare for Willy and Dr. Wufren.
Everyone gave the standard good-natured grumbles, but no one argued too much. We’d done this drill often enough. The downside to Roulette was some of its laws, particularly those that affected Espens. Ciarissa and Dr. Wufren would need to wear special headpieces that blocked their tele-talents. Technically, as a Shifter, I should be wearing an elaborate set of body armor. As if. I shifted, just a little, all on the inside.
Kyle, Willy, and Tresia could all go into Roulette without issues, but since we weren’t here for fun, they were better off staying on-ship. Besides, Roy was protective and did his best to keep his little brother out of harm’s way. Sure, we didn’t succeed all that often, but still, he kept on trying.
The ramp lowered, and the three of us walked down. We were greeted by a flying robotic attendant, typical for Roulette. “Names and purpose?”
“Captain and partial crew of the Hyperion,” Roy said. We hadn’t been on the Hyperion for years, so it was unlikely to bring up anything negative out of the planet’s central computer. “On Roulette for a short visit with an old friend.”
The robot flew around us. I was tense but fairly sure the robot couldn’t sense it. Whether it could or not, the robot didn’t make any issues. “Two Earthers, one Polliwog.” I assumed Dr. Wufren and Ciarissa had honed some skills while I was gone. I knew my internal rearrangements had shown me to be an Earther, as opposed to a Shifter, but the only true Earther we had was Willy — Roy and Kyle were Martian. And, Martians were right after Shifters on the popularity rolls these days. “What is the makeup of the crew which remains on board?”
“Two more Earthers, one Arachnidan, one Quillian, and two Espens,” Roy replied briskly. “If they leave the ship, the Espens will wear appropriate gear.” Doven’s talent was extremely rare, and like my status, we didn’t list it on the books.
“You may proceed. Enjoy your stay on Roulette and may luck grace you.”
Interestingly to me, Espens weren’t hunted or even feared. However, they didn’t run the galaxy, either, and considering eight out of ten Espens were telepathic or telekinetic of some kind, this was surprising. Ciarissa and Dr. Wufren had never explained why Espen functioned as it did. I figured they were either all peaceful at their cores, or else there was a larger scheme in place Espen’s leaders didn’t feel they needed to share.
I kept a casual lookout. “No one’s taking undue interest.”
A variety of holoscreens hung along the walls of the spaceport, creating a bank of moving, life-like visuals, streaming in from every planet in the galaxy. Many of them showed a continuous loop of the firefight we’d just left. “…the horrific explosion ended the short life of Princess Olivia of Andromeda,” an announcer’s voice said. “Next up—is Andromeda’s royal family cursed? Our investigative reporters give you the real news.”
“Think they’ll create a problem?” I asked Roy quietly.
“No, standard media reaction,” he replied in kind.
Roulette had excellent public transportation of all kinds—didn’t want anything to slow your getting to a gaming facility. We had a regular bookie we used, but never for payouts from this kind of job. Those who placed a big bet on a political figure’s nuptials
or death tended to garner a lot of interest from Galactic Enforcement.
Instead, I went back to work. The cloak was serving a double purpose—I could shift under it in crowded areas, and I could also shift the cloak with me, if I was in seclusion. I could also change the cloak’s color as needed. Roulette had great security, but there were always ways around it, and we knew them all.
By the time we reached our first casino, I’d shifted to look similar to Tresia, though I ensured I wasn’t an exact duplicate—why leave her on the ship if I was going to just have “her” exposed here?
Casinos were equal species opportunity locations, but many seemed to get more of one type of crowd than another. The Web, therefore, catered to those with extra appendages.
The hardest part about shifting into an Arachnidan was remembering which arm to use for what activity. If I’d needed to officially say goodbye to Roy and Bullfrog this could have been a problem, but gathering bets was simple—whatever pincer was closest to the cash was the appropriate choice.
Conveniently, once “in shape” I didn’t have issues walking—the body was the thing and I didn’t have to learn or relearn how to use my new parts. Sadly, I still had to look in some kind of reflective surface to ensure my shift was accurate. Happily, my two funky, backward-knee-bending legs and six bony arms were all in place, pincers clicking away like I’d been born in a cocoon. I resisted the urge to wrap the cloak fully around myself—Arachnidans wore cloaks as adornment, not for protection from heat or cold. I reminded myself that I found Tresia quite attractive, as Arachnidans went. Besides, Roy was already elsewhere.
I did the herky-jerky walk that was deceptive in its ability to cover ground fast, and reached my first payout window. Long line, but not too bad.
“Your payment in casino chips or planetary currency?” the Arachnidan behind the counter asked. Most casinos hired Arachnidans for their casino cages, not just the Web, because those extra limbs were helpful and no one wanted one of the many pincers to close on any part of their body. Pound for pound, Arachnidans were the strongest beings around.
“Currency, thank you.” My voice sounded similar to Tresia’s—higher pitched, melodious.
The Arachnidan behind the bars was male and apparently a fan of Tresia’s vocal pattern. I got an appraising look. “Busy in a few?” he asked as he carefully counted out my winnings. Clearly Tresia was his type. Pity she wasn’t around to enjoy the flirtation.
However, there were flirtation rules. I raced through what Tresia had told me while I watched him neatly stack and straighten the bills. “I’m flattered you’re interested in my schedule.”
He slid the bills through the small opening between us. Per Dr. Wufren, casino cages, regardless of planet or historical age, were all pretty similar—lots of bars keeping the average gambler away from all that money. “I enjoy sharing company while I dine.”
Oh. Wow. He was asking me out to a meal. This was a big deal. Clearly my cashier was either a lothario or he was really smitten. Either way, this wasn’t good. Folks tended to remember someone who’d stood them up. Or turned them down cold.
I spotted a big Arachnidan at a nearby craps table. I dropped my voice. “If I can escape my mate’s notice, I would be pleased to join you.” I looked pointedly at the big guy, who was busy waving around chips in two pincers, drinks in three others, and rolling the dice with the last set. “He can be so…protective.”
The cashier looked as well. He was about half the other Arachnidan’s size. “Ah. I would not want to upset a joyfully mated pair.” He slid my money to me quickly.
“Oh.” I did my best to sound disappointed. “Well, thank you for the compliment. Good day.” I took the money and herky-jerked my way over to the big guy. I sidled up next to him. “Hey, can I get a kiss for luck?”
He grinned, tossed the dice, put down one drink, and wrapped that arm around me, bent me back, and planted one. Fortunately, we kissed without tongues involved, mostly because I kept my lips clamped shut. I’d had to kiss an Arachnidan romantically in the past. If you think eight limbs is odd, try three separate tongues, two of which are very sticky.
“Winner!” the dealer shouted.
My “mate” was happily distracted by this. “Heading to an Easy Eights table,” I said, pretty much to no one. He nodded, his focus back on the dice. I wandered off, confident he’d never remember me and that the cashier would be doing his best to forget me.
A big clutch of a wide variety of beings stood around the Easy Eights section. I mingled into a group that had several Arachnidans taller than me. A dark alcove was nearby—very small, but large enough for what I needed.
I stepped into the alcove, altered the cloak’s color just slightly, and went to Earther form. I pulled the cloak around me now, ensured the hood was up, moved back through the crowd, and left the casino. No one followed me; no one tried to stop me.
Headed to the next casino on the list and did the process all over again. Over the course of the next twelve hours, I shifted from one look to another. This kind of shifting was easy and didn’t need the same dedication a full impersonation required. Men, women, humanoids—I covered all the major planets and all the major races. No bet paid out higher than ten thousand credits. I hit the Joint early, lest I disappoint Dr. Wufren, and added his old winnings to our new haul.
The biggest risk we had was conversion. Planetary money is fine, and space credits are nice, but nothing travels like precious gemstones. The Andromeda Royal Family understood this well, but Roulette’s goal wasn’t to send you home rich beyond your wildest dreams. Theirs was to have you give all your winnings back and then some.
The risk with conversion was that the only one of our crew who could determine real from fake was Bullfrog, and it was hard to hide a Polliwog anywhere or anytime, unless you were actually on Polliworld itself.
So, I gathered payouts and slipped them to Roy. Roy handed them off to Bullfrog, who made conversions in almost as many places as Roy, and the crew had placed our bets. Difference was, while I got a variety of small payouts, Bullfrog collected a larger amount before he went to make the trades. His cover—as a runner for the Polliworld Underground—seemed to work well. No one liked to run afoul of organized crime from any planet.
Twelve hours is a long time, and we allowed ourselves a couple of breaks. But the faster we could collect and convert, the faster we could get off this particular rock and head somewhere safer. No extradition on Roulette didn’t mean no prisons.
Roulette’s prisons were nasty and even though I’d gotten out, I didn’t want to press my luck and go back. Ever. Sure it had been a long time ago. Sure Roy had rescued me. Sure the entire situation had ended up changing my life in a good way. I still didn’t want to make a return visit. Call me unadventurous.
We were almost done. Roy, Bullfrog, and I sat together at a small café, comparing experiences, tallying payouts and conversion rates, and ensuring our plan was still working. The news feed blathered on about Princess Olivia’s “death.” I hoped she was okay. I always tried not to get truly attached to any of our clients or marks, but working with Andromeda so often made it difficult, at least in the Royal Family’s case.
“One more stop and that’s it,” Roy said, checking receipts.
I wasn’t an Espen, but I got a funny feeling. “Which bookie?”
“Not a bookie, straight casino bet. From The Jewel of Roulette.”
“That’s a Diamante Families casino, isn’t it?” The funny feeling got worse.
“Yes.” Roy eyed me. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.” I focused on the news. They were talking about Princess Olivia’s death, but the Diamante Families were being mentioned. “Listen.”
We all did. “Sounds like the Families are trying to insinuate foul play,” Bullfrog said finally.
“The shot that ‘destroyed’ the ship was from a Diamante vessel,” Roy countered.
“Which would be why they’re trying to shift blame.” I consid
ered how King Oliver thought. “Roy, your fourth daughter in a row has ‘died under mysterious circumstances,’ each one before she could marry a Diamante prince. Let’s say Diamante gets suspicious. What would you do?”
“Try to shift the blame onto them,” Roy said without missing a beat. “Go for the whole ‘your vessel’s shot killed her’ sort of thing.” His eyes narrowed. “You think that’s what’s going on?”
“I think King Oliver is easily as smart and sneaky as you are, Roy, so yeah, I think so. And I’d also guess that someone in the Diamante Families is wondering if this is all an elaborate set up.”
“Go for whoever takes out a big payout?” Bullfrog asked.
“Probably.”
Roy shook his head. “Were you the only one taking Andromeda payouts?”
I snorted. “Hardly. At some casinos I had to wait in line.”
“So, we need to collect this one from the Jewel. If we don’t, it’ll be as suspicious as if we do.”
“If the Diamante Families create enough issue, the bookies might hold on the payouts,” Bullfrog pointed out, sounding worried. Not that I could blame him. The risk of monies being held was a big reason why we got our payouts immediately whenever possible.
I thought on this. “Okay. I have a plan. I want to take Bullfrog back to the ship.”
“Why?” He sounded offended. “I’m the best we have in a fight after Roy.”
“Because you’re carrying all the money, my beloved toad. I really want what we have safely tucked away before we deal with our last payout.”
Roy shrugged. “I’ve learned—never argue with DeeDee. She always wins.”
“Let’s hope my record stays intact, then.”
“I don’t like it,” Roy said, for the eleventh time by my count.
“You never want to let me do anything,” Kyle muttered.
“I prefer to have you on the ship. So someone I can trust is there, just in case.”
Both Kyle and I gave Roy derisive looks. “You trust everyone, more than me sometimes,” Kyle said. This was probably true. Kyle was the least experienced of anyone on our crew, and Roy didn’t want anything to happen to him. Ever.