“It ought to,” said Cole. “We’ll know in less than six hours.”
“I’d love to see the look on the Rock’s face when he finds out that he’s just attacked the Blue Devil in underwhelming numbers,” said Sharon with a chuckle. “What do you think he’ll do—run or fight?”
“He’s got to join the battle,” said Cole with absolute conviction. “If he runs, he’s lost his empire, such as it is, and he’s not getting it back.”
“Do we care who wins?”
“Not really. I suppose we’d prefer the Rock to lose, just to relieve the minds of the miners on Djamara, but it makes no difference. If he loses, we’ve fulfilled our contract, and if he wins, he’ll be pretty banged up and we’ll be waiting for him when he returns to Djamara.”
It happened exactly as Cole had predicted. The Carnivore was blown apart before it could reach Meritonia III’s atmosphere. The Blue Devil immediately declared war on the Rock of Ages, who raced to Meritonia to join his remaining ships in an all-out battle against the Blue Devil’s more powerful fleet.
The war lasted twenty-one minutes. When it was over the Rock of Ages and all five of his ships had been blown into history, and the Blue Devil’s fleet had been reduced from eleven to three.
Cole contacted the miners and told them that the crisis was over and that the Theodore Roosevelt had accomplished its mission, then got in touch with the Platinum Duke to apprise him of the situation and remind him to start auditing the company’s books.
“That’s absolutely remarkable!” said the Duke. “And the amazing thing is that you did it without firing a shot!”
“We fired one shot,” Cole corrected him. “We didn’t hit anything, or even try to, but it served its purpose.”
“You know what I meant,” said the Duke. “It’s just remarkable! Why do you act so calm, like it was a daily occurrence?”
“It’s not a daily occurrence,” replied Cole. “But it’s nothing to get excited about. There are a zillion species, sentient and otherwise, in the universe. God gave every last one of them teeth and claws. Only a handful of us got brains. It seems to me it’d be criminal not to use them.”
“No wonder the Republic wants you dead,” said the Duke admiringly. “You make too much sense.”
8
It was two days later, and Cole, Sharon, Val, and David Copperfield were sharing a table, and a round of drinks, with the Platinum Duke at his casino on Singapore Station. Forrice had accompanied them as far as the only Molarian brothel in the sector and had then taken his leave of them, promising to rejoin them later.
“Remarkable!” the Duke was saying. “Just remarkable!”
“Perhaps we should have charged them more,” suggested David Copperfield, only half joking.
“It wasn’t that remarkable,” said the Duke with a smile. “But it was a nice few days’ work.”
“And now you and I should sit down and discuss the next commission,” said David.
“We are sitting down,” noted the Duke dryly.
“You don’t really want to discuss such things in public,” suggested David.
“If I tell people not to get close enough to listen, they’ll keep their distance.”
“It must be nice to own a world,” said Sharon. “Even an artificial all-metal world like this one.”
“It has its compensations,” replied the Duke.
“I’ve noticed,” said Cole.
“It also has its liabilities,” continued the Duke. “For example, this is my casino. I own the profits, but I also have to cover the losses.”
“You’ve been losing?”
“I’m being cheated, I know that. But I don’t know how—and the gentleman who has been cheating me six nights in a row is . . . well ... formidable.”
“Where is he?” asked Cole.
“Over there at the card tables,” said the Duke. “He’s a head or two taller than anyone else.”
“I know him,” said Val, studying the man in question. He stood close to seven feel tall, was well dressed and well muscled, and was carrying two hand weapons that were visible and probably more that weren’t.
“You do?” asked David.
“Well, I know of him, anyway,” she said. “He’s Skullcracker Morrison.”
“I remember him!” said Sharon. “Didn’t he used to be the freehand heavyweight champion of the Antares Sector?”
“Yes, until he got a little excited in the ring one night and killed his opponent, the referee, and three policemen who tried to arrest him.”
“He’s obviously not fighting anymore,” said Sharon. “I wonder what he’s doing for a living?”
“Oh, he’s still cracking skulls,” said Val. “He’s just not doing it in the ring.”
“Muscle for hire?” asked Cole.
“Right.”
“Almost everyone here is carrying some kind of weapon,” noted Cole. “I don’t know what good all his strength and skill can do him.”
“He doesn’t ply his trade here,” said the Duke. “He spends his money here—except that he’s winning my money instead.”
“How do you know he’s cheating?”
“Every game in this casino gives the house a five to ten percent edge—and that one, Khalimesh, gives us twelve percent. I don’t care how good you are or how lucky you are, if you come to the tables six nights in a row, you’ve got to have a losing night.”
“Looks complicated,” observed Cole.
“Seventy-two cards, eight suits, no numbers, all face cards, a dealer and four to six players,” replied the Duke. “I think the Canphorites invented it, but it’s become very popular out here on the Frontier, even with Men.” He paused. “I just wish I knew how he was doing it.”
“Bar him from the casino,” suggested Sharon.
“I value my few remaining human parts too highly,” replied the Duke.
Val stared at the Platinum Duke for a long minute. “If I prove he’s cheating, prove it in front of witnesses, will you give us half of what we recover from him?”
“Absolutely!” said the Duke promptly.
“‘Us’?” said Cole. “If you can spot what he’s doing and make it stick, the money’s yours.”
“I’m probably going to need a little help,” she explained. “If it’s a Teddy R operation, then the spoils should go into the Teddy R’s coffers.”
“Do you know how he’s cheating?” asked David Copperfield.
“Not yet,” answered Val. “But I’ve been hanging out in joints like this since I arrived on the Frontier fifteen years ago. If he’s cheating, I’ll spot it, all right.” She turned to the Duke. “Give me a couple of hundred Maria Theresa dollars or Far London pounds.” He looked surprised—as much as his metal face could display any reaction. “I can’t see what he’s doing from here,” continued Val. “You can deduct it from what you owe me when I’m done.”
“And if you can’t spot it, the money is forfeit,” said the Duke, handing her the money.
She pushed it back across the table to him. “If you’re going to be that cheap, get someone else to show you how he’s robbing you.”
The Duke sighed and pushed the money across the table again. “When you put it that way . . .”
“All right,” she said, picking up the money and getting to her feet.
She walked over to the card table where Morrison was playing, purchased some chips, and bought into the game. The dealer shuffled the deck, dealt out the hands quickly and efficiently, and then called out the various cards and bets.
Val won two tiny pots and lost five larger ones, four of them to Morrison, then returned to the Duke’s table.
“Here,” she said, handing him some chips. “Remember to subtract them from the two hundred dollars.”
“You spotted it already?” asked the Duke.
“There’s only one way they can be working it,” said Val.
“They?” repeated the Duke.
“The dealer’s in on it,” she said. “Morri
son can’t be doing it alone.”
“How are they working it?”
“The dealer’s got to be using a shiner,” said Val.
“Impossible!” said the Duke. “I’ve got holo cameras zooming in on the dealers’ hands. If he was using one, we’d have spotted it.”
“What’s a shiner?” asked Sharon.
“A tiny mirror,” explain Val. “He keeps it below the deck, and as he deals, Morrison will get a quick look at the face of each card as it comes off the deck.”
“I know what a shiner is,” said the Duke, “and I’m telling you that no one’s using one. You want to check the holos?”
“Why bother?” said Val. “You’ve checked them.”
“Then you agree they can’t be using a shiner and you’ve wasted close to two hundred Maria Theresa dollars,” said the Duke.
“I didn’t say I agreed,” replied Val. “I said I didn’t see any reason to check the holos.”
“You insist that the dealer’s using a shiner?”
“That’s what I said.”
“If we search him and don’t find it, will that satisfy you?”
“I wouldn’t think it will satisfy you,” said Val. “I thought you wanted your money back. Well, half of it, anyway.”
The Duke threw up his hands in exasperation. “I am totally confused!” he said. “Captain Cole, she works for you. Do you understand her?”
“I serve with Cole,” said Val. “I work for me.”
“But to answer your question,” replied Cole, “I find that she isn’t wrong very often. If she says she knows how they’re cheating, I’d be inclined to believe her.”
“Then what’s your next step?” asked Duke. “Do you want to search the dealer?”
“That’s up to Val,” said Cole.
“Not much sense searching him,” she replied. “I watched him for seven hands. He never went to his pockets, or even his mouth or ears, and he’d never chance trying to palm it while he was shuffling the cards. If it falls onto the table, he’s dead meat five seconds later.”
“Then I don’t understand . . .” began the Duke.
“I know you don’t,” said Val with a smile. “That’s why he’s robbing you blind.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Cole.
“Now we study the Skullcracker for a few more minutes.”
“I thought it was the dealer we were going to expose.”
“The dealer has a confederate,” said Val. “And it’s clearly the Skullcracker. I want to see his tendencies.”
“Tendencies?” asked David Copperfield.
“See if he’s right-handed or left-handed, see how he holds his head, see what I can learn about him.” She smiled. “Cole’s got the easy part; all he has to do is expose the dealer. I’ve got to get the money back from Skullcracker Morrison.”
“It might be easier to just shoot him,” suggested the Duke. “I’m all the law there is on Singapore Station. I pardon you in advance.”
Val, still smiling, shook her head. “I always thought I was good enough to be the freehand champion if I’d stayed in the Republic. Tonight I’ll find out if I was right.”
“And if you’re not?” asked the Duke.
“Then I don’t give a damn what you do to him.”
“Before or after he kills your captain?”
“If I’m dead, what do I care?” shot back Val.
“I can’t tell you how touched I am by your concern,” said Cole wryly. “Are we about ready to get this show on the road?”
“Another minute or two,” said Val, studying Morrison intently. “He’s right-handed. If he pulls a knife or some other weapon I can’t see, it’ll be with his right hand.”
“Does it matter which hand he pulls a weapon with?” asked David.
“Of course,” answered Val. “The first arm I break will be his right one.”
“Break his arm?” said David incredulously. “He’s as big as a mountain!”
“Just stand clear when he falls,” said Val. She studied Morrison for another minute, then nodded. “All right. Let’s go earn our money.”
Cole handed his burner to Sharon. “Just in case we both need avenging,” he said, then turned to follow Val to the table. “It’d be nice if you’d tell me exactly what I’m supposed to do,” he said softly.
“Just stand next to Morrison while I’m showing everyone how they’re being cheated,” she said.
“I hope you don’t think I’m going to fight him?”
“No. But he’s the one with the money, so we don’t want him getting away. Just stick a burner or a pulse gun in his back until I finish with the dealer. I’ll take over from there—though if you’d like to disarm him, I’d consider that a personal favor.”
“I’ll disarm him,” said Cole. “What do you know about the dealer that the holo cameras don’t show?”
“I know he’s cheating. I know it’s not a marked deck, because there’s never been a marked deck I couldn’t read, so I know he’s got to be using a shiner.
“But the cameras can’t spot it, and I’m sure they search every dealer when they come on the floor and when they quit for the night or even take a break.”
“I’m sure, too.”
“Then, to repeat: what do you think you know?”
“You’re a smart man,” she said. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I can only think of one thing,” said Cole. “And if you’re wrong, you’re going to maim him.”
“See?” said Val with another smile. “I told you you’d figure it out.”
“Oh, shit!” muttered Cole. “You’d damned well better be right.”
Then they were at the table.
“Back for more?” asked the dealer pleasantly, as Cole edged around the table and took up a position directly behind where Morrison was seated.
“No,” said Val. “I don’t like to be cheated more than once a night.”
“There’s no reason to be a bad loser, ma’am,” said the dealer.
“There was no reason to be a loser at all,” she replied. “You’ve been cheating all week, you and your partner.”
“Ma’am, if you become difficult, I’m going to have to call Security.”
“Call them,” said Val. “It’ll save me the trouble. After all, we’re going to have to lock you up.”
“That’s enough!” snapped Morrison.
Cole pressed the end of his pulse gun against Morrison’s back.
“Just relax,” he said softly. “Don’t turn around, and keep your hands on the table.”
“Is this a robbery?” asked Morrison, looking straight ahead.
“No, this is the end of a robbery,” answered Cole, removing the huge man’s burner and screecher.
“Nobody’s robbing anyone,” said the dealer.
“You’ve got that right,” agreed Val. “How long did you think you could get away with it?”
“I’m not getting away with anything!” said the dealer heatedly.
“Not anymore,” agreed Val. “But I have to admit it’s the best-hidden shiner I’ve ever experienced.”
The dealer held his hands out, palms up. “Do you see a shiner?” he demanded. He looked around at the crowd that was gathering. “Does anyone see a mirror? Do you want me to roll my sleeves up?”
“Why bother?” said Val. “It’s not in your sleeves.”
“Then where do you think it is?” he snapped.
“I’m looking at it,” said Val.
“What are you talking about?”
“This!” she said, grabbing his left wrist with a powerful hand.
“You’re hurting me!” yelped the dealer.
“Don’t worry,” said Val. “What I do next won’t hurt a bit.”
Suddenly there was a knife in her other hand, and before anyone quite realized what she was doing, she held the dealer’s left hand against the table and severed the thumb with a knife.
“Anyone see any blood?” she said triumphantly.
“Take a look,” she said, holding the prosthetic thumb up for everyone to see. She released her grip on the dealer’s hand, and rolled down the skin on the underside of the thumb, revealing a tiny mirror. Then she picked a card up from the table and rubbed the artificial skin back in place with the edge of the pasteboard.
“Neat trick, isn’t it?” she said. “Some of you hold him while I have a little chat with his partner.” She walked over and stood next to Morrison. “Pay back everything you’ve won since you got to Singapore Station and you can walk away. No one will stop you.”
“No one’s going to stop me now,” he growled ominously.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” said Val, landing a roundhouse blow that knocked the huge man off his chair and onto the floor. “Stand back, Cole,” she said. “I’ll take it from here.”
Cole backed away as Morrison got to his feet.
“Say a short prayer to your God,” he told Val. “Because you’re not going to live long enough to say a long one.”
He took a swing at her, one that might well have decapitated her had it landed. She ducked, stepped in, feinted for his groin, and as he bent over to protect himself she jabbed a thumb in his eye. He howled with pain, raised a hand to cover the eye, and as he did so she landed a heavy kick to his left knee. He bellowed again, caught her on the shoulder with a glancing blow, got a broken nose for his trouble, and as he took a step toward her and reached out with both hands to grab her, she landed a powerful kick full in his groin.
He dropped to his knees, and took four more quick blows to the head. A chop across his throat had him gagging and gasping for air. Another blow demolished what was left of his nose, and he collapsed face-down on the floor.
Val rolled him over, went through his pockets, pulled out a large wad of bills, rolled him back on his stomach, and removed a miniature burner he had bonded to the small of his back. Finally she stood up.
“He let himself get out of shape,” she said contemptuously. “Hell, Bull Pampas could have taken him just as easily.”
She turned and began walking back to the Duke’s table as the crowded parted before her, looking at her with a mixture of awe and fear.
Cole turned to the assembled gamblers. “They’re all yours,” he said. “But I think we’ve had enough violence on the premises.”
Starship: Mercenary (Starship, Book 3) Page 6