“So, what would you do with my million, assuming you won it?” Actually, it would be the Gambling Gods’ money, not mine. I was fairly rich, but not rich enough to risk a million against some alien.
Snake smiled again without opening his mouth. Again his skin made that dry rustling sound and I tried not to show the shiver that was running up my back. This guy could really be helped by a little lotion.
The dealer flipped me a pair of tens this time around, and I folded them like they were a seven-deuce off. No point in actually playing at this point in the conversation. One of the women giggled and raised and both of the suckers staring at her chest called. Dan and Snake both folded.
Snake reached down under the table and pulled up a golden apple, placing it on the rail in front of him. “I assume you don’t remember this.”
I stared at the apple for a moment. The thing shone in the casino lights, begging for someone to take a bite out of it. My stomach clamped up so tight, I could hardly breathe. I was talking with a member of the alien race that had caused the legend of Adam and Eve. It sure had been a while since they had been here.
A very, very long time, actually.
“Plucked right from the Tree of Knowledge, I bet,” I said, keeping my calm exterior as poker-faced as I could, pretending to not really care.
Snake’s thin, eyebrows raised above the top edge of his sunglasses. I had surprised him, and for the first time, my poker sense told me this alien had a weakness.
“I am impressed,” Snake said. “I was led to understand that your race in general had no long-term memory, that you destroyed your past, or worshipped it for monetary gain.”
“For the most part you’re right,” I said. “But you still haven’t told me what the real bet is.”
Snake tapped the apple with a long finger. “Contained in the apple is the design and basics for a good dozen major inventions that would forward your race into the stars.” He touched the thing again. “Anti-gravity, time control, teleportation. It’s all in here.”
I didn’t mention to him that the Gambling Gods already had all of those things and humanity would discover them in their own sweet time. I wanted to see exactly what he was after in return.
“Nice,” I said. “Worth a million I would say.”
Snake shook his head, the rustling so loud this time that even one of the guys staring at the women’s chest looked around.
“Your money means nothing to me,” Snake said.
“I assumed as much,” I said, glancing over at where Patty stood near the main desk. Her eyes were wide and now Stan and Laverne were standing beside her. Clearly they were listening.
I gave Snake the old poker stare. “So what do you want in return if you win?”
“Political sanctuary,” Snake said. “And twenty of your acres of land with a privacy dome over it so I can build my own climate-controlled garden to live in.”
“And if I win?” I asked.
“You get the information in the apple and I will leave the planet and never return.”
I glanced at the poker front desk where Patty now stood alone. Clearly Stan and Lady Luck had heard and were off doing what they needed to do.
“Give me fifteen minutes to talk to my boss, and I’ll see what I can do,” I said, pushing my chair back and standing.
Snake put the apple away and nodded, glancing down at his new cards. “I’ll be right here.”
I motioned for the dealer to watch my chips and deal me out, pushed my current cards back at the dealer without looking at them, and headed toward Patty.
THREE
We were ten paces down the hall away from the poker room when we suddenly found ourselves in Lady Luck’s big office. Stan was pacing in front of Laverne’s desk, and she was tapping her fingers, staring at a blank screen on the wall beside her desk.
After a moment an alien that looked exactly like the guy sitting in the poker room came on the screen. Only this guy wasn’t hiding his snake-like body with four arms and two legs. He was also golden colored, with streaks of red and blue and bright orange along two sides. I had no idea how large he was compared to the guy downstairs, but he seemed much, much larger on the screen.
Who knew that alien life in the universe would develop from snakes as well as monkeys?
“Laverne,” the snake said in perfect British English. “It is always a great pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Commander,” Laverne said, bowing slightly.
I just stared, more than likely my mouth open. Not often you see Lady Luck herself bowing to anyone.
“I was expecting your call,” Commander said. “I assume you have encountered the Lacit fugitive.”
“He is sitting in one of our poker rooms as we speak,” Laverne said. “He has challenged Poker Boy to a wager: an apple’s-worth of knowledge against political sanctuary in a heads-up game of no-limit poker.”
Commander shook his head. “They do love that old apple trick. Their entire race seems to never tire of it. They cause more damage to young cultures than any other race.”
“I’ll take your word for that,” Lady Luck said.
Commander frowned and glanced around at something off screen before going on. “We are not scheduled to arrive for another seventeen of your hours. You would do us a great favor by stalling him without giving him political sanctuary. We have been chasing this fugitive for a great deal of your time.”
“What will he do if we don’t agree to his challenge?” Laverne asked.
“More than likely flee, after doing some very permanent damage to your culture. A couple of those apples in the wrong hands would have a very destructive result on your young culture I am afraid.”
Laverne glanced around at me. “Can you keep him playing long enough, Poker Boy?”
I glanced at the golden snake on the screen, then at Lady Luck. “I can, with a little help.”
“Come in undetected,” Laverne said, turning back to Commander. “Your fugitive will be waiting for you at a poker table in Las Vegas.”
“Thank you,” the big golden snake said, and the screen went dark.
I sure hated snakes.
Lady Luck turned to me. “What kind of help do you need?”
I glanced at Patty, then back at Laverne. “Can you, without Snake noticing, slow down the time in the casino while we play? Make the seventeen hours actually seem more like four or five? I can hold an all-in player for that long, but not a lot longer I’m afraid.”
Laverne and Stan both nodded, clearly understanding what I was asking for. Patty just looked puzzled, so to make sure we were all on the same page, I explained to her what I was thinking.
“The Snake has nothing really to lose, so in a no-limit game, he can just shove in all his chips at any given point. Without me facing him in a one-hand showdown, he can just whittle me down slowly as I keep folding. My problem is that I don’t dare win or lose. My assignment isn’t to beat Snake, it is to play him for a long time, to a draw. Much, much harder thing to do.”
“I get it,” Patty said, nodding.
“Let’s just hope he came to play,” Stan said. “I’ll set it up in a private room at the MGM. Give me five minutes.”
With that Stan vanished.
“Good luck,” Laverne said, her face tight and not smiling.
The big office of the head of all the Gambling Gods faded and Patty and I were left standing in the hallway outside of the MGM Grand poker room.
“I really hate it when Lady Luck wishes me good luck,” I said, shaking my head.
“Yeah,” Patty said. “That’s got to worry you. Means she can’t really help you much.”
“Great,” I said, taking a deep breath. I was used to winning, not playing someone to a draw.
“Ready,” Stan said, appearing beside us. He indicated a door off to one side of the poker room.
Patty leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, which for a quick second made me forget about how much I hated snakes and remember how m
uch I really liked her. “Luck,” she said.
“It will be interesting, if nothing else,” I said, smiling at her. I glanced at Stan. “Think you can slow things down a little?”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Stan said. “But if he starts to notice, we’ll back off and you’ll be on your own.”
“Just keep the snakebite kit handy,” I said, then turned and walked toward the table where the alien sat.
FOUR
“Private room,” I said as I got near the alien, indicating the door. “Chips are being set up. You have yourself a bet.”
“Perfect,” the alien said, smiling again, rustling his dry skin.
I indicated that the pit boss should cash in our real chips and bring them to us, then led the way into the private room.
A poker table filled the center of the meeting room, and an MGM Grand dealer was sitting ready. Two large stacks of chips of varied denominations were stacked in front of the third chair and the seventh chair, facing each other.
I indicated that Snake should pick and he took the three chair while I shut the door behind us.
I sat down and then pointed upward. “We’re being recorded and watched by two casino employees to ensure no problems.”
“Understandable,” he said. Then he smiled again and even from the length of the table I saw dandruff float down onto his narrow shoulders.
As Stan said, luckily, Snake had come to actually play. So, for the first hour, we traded hands back and forth, pretty much ending up level. I would raise and he would fold, he would raise and I would fold. We saw maybe a dozen flops total, with one or the other of us betting and the other folding. Not the kind of match the television folks would be happy with. In fact, on television, the first hour would mostly be edited right out.
I held a slight advantage of less than eighty thousand going into the second hour, not enough to count in this kind of game.
About ten minutes into the second hour, I caught a pair of kings on the button and raised it twenty thousand. Snake smiled and reraised another fifty. I smooth called and we went to the flop.
A third king hit the flop, but there was also an ace and ten, rainbow, meaning all suits.
Snake, with a rustling sound moved another fifty thousand into the pot.
A smallish bet, which might mean he wanted me to call. I didn’t like the feel of it.
I sat back and stared at the board, trying my best to get a read on Snake’s hand. More than likely he had aces and had me dead. I doubted he would have reraised with Jack/Queen to give him the straight. And if he had ace/king, I had him dead with two pair.
But the key was, I didn’t want to win this pot. If I folded now, I would still be slightly ahead, but I had to fold perfectly, showing him I had a read on him, to keep him under control and playing light.
So, like any good poker player, I went into acting mode. I always figured there should be an Academy Award for poker table acting. Those of us who are pros can act with the best of them. It’s also why some damn fine actors become good poker players. They already have part of the skill down solid.
“Let me see if I have this right,” I said, smiling at Snake and leaning forward. “You reraised me before the flop, not large, but large enough. Now, with the ace on the board, you come out betting, again not huge, but strong enough to make it interesting. Why do I feel like I’m being suckered into this pot?”
He again lowered his sunglasses and I could see his dark eyes under the lip of his cowboy hat. “You trying to get a read on me, Poker Boy?”
I laughed. “Oh, I already have that,” I lied. “You’re sitting there with a pair of aces in your hand and trying to sucker me in like I’m one of those rank players out there. Maybe next time.”
I flipped my pocket kings toward the dealer, face-up so he could see them.
He stared at my kings for a moment as the dealer scooped them up and then the sound of snakeskin rustling filled the room. Oh, oh, I had made him mad. That snakebite kit might not be such a bad idea after all. I had been right about his aces.
He flipped his two cards to the dealer without showing them to me and started stacking the chips from the pot as the rustling slowly faded.
Why couldn’t the aliens have been badgers, or gophers, or even alligators? Anything but snakes.
FIVE
For the next half hour, Snake shed a lot of dandruff and folded almost everything, and I gained chips on him, slowly working it up so that I had a couple hundred thousand extra on him, enough to fold some hands without being in any danger. If I hadn’t been playing an alien snake, I would have said that my play had Snake snake-bit.
But I said nothing. I just hoped time outside of this room was moving a lot faster than it was in this room.
Finally, around the beginning of the second hour, Snake seemed to shake himself, a rustling sound that sent dandruff flying everywhere. I had no idea how much dandruff would be covering the table, the chips, everything, if he hadn’t been wearing that cowboy hat. I just hoped the snake he made the cowboy hat from hadn’t been a relative.
Or another poker player.
Two hands later, he raised and I folded.
For the next fifteen hands straight, he raised and I folded. He clearly had changed strategy and I was looking tight and weak to him with my play now.
“What’s wrong, Poker Boy?” Snake asked as I folded yet another hand. “Afraid to play?”
“No cards,” I again lied. Poker players lie a lot to other poker players. Actually, I had folded six perfectly playable hands to his raises. I just didn’t see any point in mixing it up yet, since I was still a good hundred and fifty thousand ahead of him and was in no hurry at all.
Three more hands he raised and I folded, then with him raising ten thousand, I looked down and saw the worst hand in poker. Seven/deuce off-suit. So I reraised him fifty thousand.
He stared at me from behind those sunglasses, his face ringed with a coat of dandruff white, then finally folded.
I flipped my cards again face up so he could see my bluff. “Got tired of the bad cards. Decided to play a couple.”
The rustling filled the room again and the dandruff flew as Snake shuddered and got even angrier. At this point, he had to know he was way outclassed in this game and that I had a complete read on him, even though I didn’t really. One of two things would be his reaction. He would settle into slow, steady play, or he would get even more aggressive.
Luckily, after a small dandruff storm, he settled down and stopped raising every hand, and we went back to exchanging blinds with small raises as we had done the first hour.
In that style of play, with me not having any ability to sense him at all, or his hands, he was dangerous in the long run. But it would take a long time for him to wear me down, and that’s what I needed to have happen.
Finally, just under four hours into the game, we had a hand that television announcers would love. I had ace/queen and raised thirty thousand.
He flat called and we went to the flop. I put him on a pair, or maybe a weak ace such as ace/nine. At that point I was fairly certain we were going in mostly even.
Flop came out ace and two eights. I had two pair, aces and eights, but I didn’t much like that flop.
He bet out forty thousand and this time I called him.
The next card was a third eight, filling me up. But again, I hated that card more than I wanted to admit. We were either going to tie if he also had an ace, or I was beat with my full house against his quads if he had the forth ace.
He checked.
I checked right behind him.
Dandruff flew, telling me he wanted me to bet. It seemed his tell was his bad skin problem. He had the eights.
The last card was a worthless rag, and he bet out another forty grand, just enough to keep me in. I called him, since I would still be up slightly even losing the pot, and he rolled over ace eight.
I rolled over my ace/queen and Snake said “Nice hand,” as the dealer shoved him t
he chips.”
“Nice bet,” I said.
So after four hours of play, we were still almost even. So far, I had managed to do what I needed to do.
SIX
By the end of hour five, I was a hundred grand behind, all from small pots, and Snake’s shirt was almost pure white from the dandruff.
By the end of hour six, I was two hundred thousand behind, and Snake had settled into the pattern that I knew from the beginning would wear me down. In a game where winning and losing were an option, I would have ended this hours ago. It had already gone on a lot longer than I had thought possible.
And I thought the same thing by the end of hour seven. I had pressured him into folding a few hands, being clear that he was beaten, but he had gotten me to fold even more, and now my chips were just over six hundred thousand.
“Be nice to my chips,” I said, smiling at him. “They are about to come back my way. I can feel the cards turning.”
He just grinned and rustled his skin and shed even more dandruff. “We shall see, Poker Boy. We shall see.”
My comment had the desired effect and he started raising regularly again, forcing his play, and for a good dozen hands, I folded everything, pretending to get angry at the cards for not turning, even though I was seeing some perfectly good playable hands.
Then, on the button, I looked down at pocket rockets. Two wonderful red aces.
“It’s about damn time,” I said, and raised a smooth forty thousand. My comment, of course, would tell any decent poker player I really didn’t have a strong hand. He just called and sat back in his chair.
Not a good sign. He had a monster hand as well.
Flop came ace/queen/jack, rainbow. He bet out forty thousand, the same bet I had made and I flat called him with my three aces. And then I sat back.
“Interesting,” Snake said, looking over the top of his sunglasses at me with his dark eyes.
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