by E. M. Foner
Kelly translated and the salesman replied, “For recognized diplomats.”
“I’m traveling incognito until the start of the open house,” the Tzvim said. “Would you vouch for me, Ambassador?”
“The Tzvim really is a diplomat, but we’re trying to keep things quiet until the Stryx open house officially begins,” Kelly explained.
“I’ll believe it when I read it in the Galactic Free Press,” Bob said stubbornly. He climbed into the floater and began easing it back down towards the central stage. “If you do qualify, the diplomatic discount is five hundred creds,” he called back over his shoulder.
“That’s not even three percent,” Geed complained. “In our empire, senior diplomats get thirty percent off on durable goods and fifty percent off on meals and entertainment.”
“Your empire?” the Cayl inquired dryly.
“We aren’t the ones stepping down,” Z’bath pointed out.
Thirteen
“It’s really not about the money,” Kelly reassured the Cayl emperor, who stood behind the EarthCent ambassador to observe her play. “It’s a game of strategy and chance. The chips are just a way of keeping score.”
“We don’t disapprove of gambling,” Brynt replied. “It’s the pursuit of wealth that we find destructive.”
“You mean you gamble to lose?” Joe asked. A smile spread over his face. “Kelly. Why don’t you swap places and we’ll teach Emperor Brynt how to play.”
“No objections here,” Daniel said. “Or, you could just have him pull up a chair and we’ll stick with games that allow more than eight players.”
“I’ve invented a new game that allows up to thirteen players using just one standard deck,” Jeeves announced. “It’s like five-card stud, except with four cards, and everybody gets an invisible wildcard.”
“What do you call it?” Dring asked, shuffling with his stubby fingers.
“Jeeves,” the Stryx replied. “It’s my back-up plan for immortality.”
“Sorry, Jeeves, but I’ve seen it played in casinos,” Daniel said. “And I haven’t had a chance to thank you for helping out with the conference panel, so, thank you.”
“Aisha is looking after the baby,” Shaina told her husband as she retook her seat after a nursing break. “He and Fenna get on like they’re made for each other.”
“If Emperor Brynt is in, I will start with five-card draw since the betting is relatively uncomplicated,” Dring announced. “Everybody please ante.”
“That means you put in ten millicreds, one of the yellow chips,” Kelly explained to the Cayl. She swapped places with Brynt and dragged up another of the lightweight carbon fiber chairs to sit at his shoulder.
“Can I put in more?” the emperor asked.
“Why would you want to do that?” Dring inquired.
“As a statement,” Brynt replied. “I wouldn’t want anybody to confuse my participation in this game with avarice.”
“But even with the explanation, you’re the only one who would appreciate the gesture,” Kelly argued. “It’s like the apocryphal story about the man who walked fast on his way to church every Sunday and dragged his feet on the way home. He wanted everybody to see how eager he was to enter the House of the Lord and how reluctant he was to leave, but the only one he ended up impressing was himself.”
The Cayl twisted his shaggy head sharply to look at the EarthCent ambassador. “Are you suggesting that the other species are laughing behind our backs?”
“Let me put it this way,” Jeeves said. “This is an exclusive poker game. We don’t invite just anybody to sit in.”
“What the young Stryx is trying to express is that most sentients will gladly entertain the foibles of aliens when there’s a profit in doing so,” Dring explained as he completed the deal. “It has been a long time since I visited your region of space, but I do seem to recall visiting a market where two prices were displayed for every item on sale.”
“Wholesale and retail?” Blythe asked, sorting the cards in her hand.
“Cayl and Native,” Dring replied. “It struck me as odd so I asked about it. This particular market was next to a Cayl garrison post, and some of the vendors had discovered they could attract more business by displaying a higher price for the warriors.”
“It does sound a bit like an affectation when you put it that way,” the emperor mumbled, picking up his own cards and spreading them into a fan shape. “Did you say that three of one kind and two of another kind is a good hand?”
Joe groaned and threw his cards into the center of the table, followed by everybody else in turn, except for Dring.
“It is a very good hand if you’re talking about the rank of the card, like matching numbers or pictures,” the Maker replied. “If you’re talking about the suit, like a red heart or diamond, or a black club or spade, then you’ll want to draw new cards. Would you like to place a bet?”
“How many new cards can I ask for?”
“You may discard up to three cards in return for an equal number of replacements. Some people allow four cards to be drawn if you hold an ace, but as the dealer, I don’t allow that.”
“Then I won’t bet,” Brynt said.
Shaina banged her head on the table, then laughed and turned to Jeeves. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you bluffed out by table talk,” she said to the Stryx.
“I never believed he drew a full house on the deal,” Jeeves replied stiffly. “I would have folded these cards no matter what.”
“Somebody is full of something,” Shaina said in a sotto voice.
“I will also pass,” Dring said, setting down his hand and picking up the deck. “How many cards do you want?”
Kelly surveyed the hand the Cayl emperor held up for her, and then tapped a couple of the cards.
“Two,” Brynt said, discarding the cards Kelly had selected.
“Those were the ones I wanted you to keep,” Kelly blurted. “Oh, forget you heard that, Dring.”
“Dealer takes one,” Dring said, exchanging a card for himself. “Do you wish to bet now?”
Brynt held his modified hand up for the EarthCent ambassador, who nodded and pointed at the blue stack. The emperor slid the whole pile into the pot.
“I meant one chip!” Kelly exploded. “Don’t you guys do anything in moderation?”
Dring looked at Kelly, looked at the Cayl, and then looked back at Kelly again. “I fold,” he announced.
“So these win?” the emperor asked in amazement. He laid out his hand, which consisted of a pair of fives and three unmatched face cards.
“You don’t have to show them,” Kelly said. “You win as soon as everybody else folds.”
“But that’s fascinating,” Brynt declared. “It means I can represent holding better cards than those I’ve drawn. It’s as if I could approach a planet in a shuttle while appearing on their detection grid as a war fleet. What’s to prevent me from doing this every hand?”
“In this case, you had me beat,” Dring said, flipping over his cards to show a missed straight. “But remember, if you bluff that you are holding better cards every time, eventually somebody who draws a strong hand will challenge you, and then you’ll lose the large number of chips you have put in the pot.”
“I understand,” the emperor said, leaning back in his chair. He fished in his belt pouch for a hard biscuit and bit into it with a loud crunch. Beowulf appeared out of nowhere and dropped his giant head in the Cayl’s lap.
“Don’t beg, boy,” Joe said. “I’ll get more pretzels.” He rose from the table and took the empty pitcher with him.
“One,” Brynt said, giving the dog a biscuit. “They’re good for the teeth.”
“Even if you don’t chew them?” Shaina remarked.
Beowulf ingested the biscuit and did his best to pretend he didn’t know what “one” meant. The Cayl pushed the dog away.
“My deal,” Clive said, retrieving the deck from the Maker. “I think explaining seven-card stud to Empero
r Brynt will give Joe enough time to get back with the goodies.”
“Your parents have returned to Earth without you?” Brynt asked the EarthCent ambassador.
“Yes,” Kelly said. “I saw them off this morning while Daniel was showing you and the others around Libbyland. Did you think my parents lived here with us all of the time?”
“They were here when I arrived,” the Cayl observed. “Many species have such living arrangements. There are times I regret that we have always fostered a tradition of encouraging our young to go out to test their mettle. Many of them never return.”
“I’ve come across several large Cayl colonies in my travels,” Dring commented. He peeked at his first hole card as soon as it landed in front of him. “Your people do pick some of the least hospitable places to settle. I remember one world in the Orion Nebula which was completely covered in ice for half of its year and uncomfortably hot and wet for the other half. The colonists constructed cities and farms floating in the atmosphere, with agricultural fields that were irrigated from the bottom by natural steam. The vegetables were delicious.”
“Don’t you keep in contact with the Cayl who emigrate?” Kelly asked. “Surely your science is capable of it.”
“For millions of years we have built our colony ship fleets for one-way trips,” Brynt replied. “The vessels are engineered for reuse as components of warships, power plants, laboratories and workshops. Even the floating cities our friend just mentioned are likely based on the colony ship platform. It would be shameful to burden our pioneers with a reporting requirement, as if we didn’t trust them to succeed.”
“Let me get this straight,” Blythe said. “Whenever your people build up enough population and resources to equip an expedition, you sent away a colony fleet and you don’t even maintain trade relations?”
“Trade is for the moneylenders,” the Cayl replied dismissively. Now that he had two cards before him, he took a peek, and then remembered to hold them up for Kelly. “No offense to any businessmen present.”
“None taken,” Jeeves responded. “Our archives include regular contacts with a number of successful Cayl colonies, though none of them have developed into empires like the parent civilization.”
“Of course not,” the emperor said, watching the first round of face-up cards being dealt. “They would have learned from our example the expense and aggravation of maintaining an empire.”
“And you aren’t even curious to know how they’re doing?” Jeeves pursued the question while examining his own cards. “You’ve never thought of sending a ship just to check in?”
“It could be interpreted the wrong way, as if we didn’t trust them,” Brynt explained. “How would you like it if your progenitors watched you all of the time?”
“They do,” Jeeves muttered.
“But what if your colonists are thinking exactly the same way you are?” Kelly demanded. “What if they’re too proud to contact you for fear you’ll think they need help?”
“What should I do?” the Cayl asked the ambassador.
“You should reach out to them,” Kelly said, warming to her subject. “You’re the emperor. You can stand up and change a mistaken tradition that’s persisted for millions of years!”
“I meant, what should I do with these cards?”
“Oh. The betting starts to the left of the dealer, so you don’t have to do anything yet.” Everybody passed until the bet reached the emperor, at which point Kelly said, “I guess I’d raise a yellow. Just one,” she admonished, as the Cayl toyed with the stack. “You have three more open cards and another hole card to come.”
Dring, Daniel, Shaina and Blythe all folded. Kelly reached over and pushed in a yellow chip for Joe’s hand without looking at his hole cards. Clive gave the remaining players a second face-up card, maintaining a running commentary.
“Lady for the emperor, Nine for the Stryx, Joe pairs his Four, and an Ace for the dealer.”
“I don’t want to sound nosy, but doesn’t your intelligence service have any information about the Cayl who have emigrated?” Blythe asked.
“We don’t have an intelligence service,” the emperor responded. He appeared to be distracted as he puzzled over his hand, attempting to project the possibilities three cards into the future.
“Don’t tell me,” Blythe said. “The Cayl see spying as dishonorable.”
“In some cases,” the emperor replied. “What if I stationed agents behind each of you to report on your cards?”
“Cheating is different,” Blythe protested.
“Is it?” the Cayl asked. “The histories record that the Empire maintained an intelligence service in its early days, but it was abandoned due to ballooning costs. Besides, there are some things that an emperor is better off not knowing about his subjects.”
“It’s me?” Joe said, returning to the table with a pitcher of beer and the pretzels. After glancing at his hole cards, he announced, “Fours bet a hundred,” and pushed a red chip into the center of the table.
Jeeves, the Cayl and Clive all called, and the head of EarthCent Intelligence dealt a third open card. Joe’s pair of Fours held up, but Jeeves showed three diamonds that could potentially be connected in a straight flush. Joe poured himself a beer to buy time for thinking.
“Did I tell you that Jonah is quitting dancing?” Blythe asked Kelly. “Vivian was so disappointed, but we explained to her that it’s unfair to make her brother continue just so she’ll have a partner.”
“Can’t Marcus find her a boy to dance with? I thought his school was doing very well.”
“It is, but almost all of his students are adults. Most kids aren’t interested in ballroom dancing. She’s probably going to have to give it up.”
“Samuel wants to learn ballroom dancing,” Jeeves mentioned offhandedly.
“Our Samuel?” Kelly asked in surprise. “What gave you that idea?”
“I hear things. I’ll bet you ten creds I’m right.”
“Done,” Kelly said impulsively.
“Are the suits all equivalent?” the Cayl asked. “If the Stryx and I held the same suited progression of ranks, would his diamonds be worth more than my clubs?”
“We don’t use suits in ranking hands,” Clive replied, taking another look at the Cayl’s exposed cards. “But if you’re trying to represent a straight flush, you don’t—oh wait, I guess you do have a shot, though you’ll need some luck getting there.”
“Fours bet a hundred,” Joe said again, pushing another red chip into the pot. “Beowulf. Go find Samuel.”
“He and Banger were playing in my garden when I left,” Dring said. The dog trotted off in the direction of Dring’s corner of the hold.
“See your hundred, and I’ll raise a thousand,” Jeeves declared, pushing a red and a blue into the center of the table with his pincer. The Cayl did the same, but Clive folded. Joe grimaced, but he paid the blue to see another card.
“Fours triple up,” Clive announced, as he went around the table dealing the remaining three players their final open card. “Straight flush still possible for Jeeves, outside shot at a straight flush for the Emperor. Fours bet.”
“Five thousand,” Joe declared without hesitation, pushing five blues into the growing pile.
“Is that a lot?” Brynt asked.
“Well, it’s a lot for this game,” Kelly replied.
“We play for millicreds,” Shaina explained. “A blue chip is one cred, enough to buy a cup of coffee in some places.”
“Call,” Jeeves said, moving five blues into the pot.
“Well, it’s your money,” the Emperor said to Kelly. “What do you think?”
“Let me see them again.” The Cayl held up his hole cards, cupped between his two large hands. Kelly looked at the cards, studied her husband’s face for a moment, and decided he looked far too relaxed for her liking. Besides, Jeeves had a better chance of making a flush, if he didn’t have one already. “Let’s fold,” she said.
Clive dealt
a final face-down card to Joe and the Stryx.
“Did you get it?” Joe asked the Stryx.
“Are you passing or are you just making conversation?” Jeeves replied.
“I guess there’s no point trying to read you,” Joe said. “I’ll just play the odds.” He counted his remaining blue chips and pushed them in. “Bet’s twelve thousand.”
“Twelve thousand sounds so much cooler than twelve creds,” Shaina pointed out for the Cayl’s benefit.
“Every human has his day,” Jeeves muttered, conceding the hand.
Joe raked in the chips and began building stacks as Clive passed the remains of the deck to Blythe.
“Back to five-card draw,” she announced, accepting the scattered discards and straightening out the deck for shuffling. “I’ll bet this is the first time in history that a human beat out a Cayl, a Stryx and a Maker for a pot.”
“That’s right,” Kelly said. “You made history, Joe.”
“Doesn’t count,” Joe replied complacently. “It would be like Beowulf taking credit for being the first dog to eat a Cayl biscuit and a handful of pretzels with a Stryx and a Maker present at the same time. It’s got everything to do with the guest list and nothing to do with the accomplishment.”
Samuel reached the table at a run, Banger floating beside him and Beowulf nipping at his heels. “What is it?” he panted.
“Jonah doesn’t want to take dance lessons with his sister anymore,” Joe addressed his son. “Jeeves said you might be interested.”
“Okay,” the boy said. “When do I start?”
“Okay?” Kelly pulled her son over and looked him in the eye. “Since when are you interested in dancing?”
“I always liked dancing,” Samuel said evasively. “Don’t you remember when I used to practice with Aisha?”
“But you were always making fun of her,” Kelly reminded him.
“When do I start?” Samuel repeated, going around to where Blythe sat and attempting to look angelic. He came across more like a hungry dog, which made perfect sense since his acting coach was Beowulf.
“They’ve been practicing every afternoon for three hours after they get out of Libby’s school,” Blythe said. “I’ll talk to Marcus about reducing the time.”