The rest of the game
Jun. 11th, 2006 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ksmithThe rest of the game sequence. If anyone notices any errors, please let me know.
"You're awfully quiet, ní Tsecha." Jani glanced across the table and watched him study his hand. "You've scarcely spoken since we started."
"I concentrate, nìa. I learn the game." Tsecha rearranged his cards, then laid them face-down on the table. "I still do not understand why I cannot see the cards you toss away."
"Because then you would have a much better idea of which cards are still available." Dieter glared at his own hand, just as he had glared at every hand he'd been dealt over the course of the evening, good or bad. "It removes some of the risk, and risk is the point of the exercise. That's why it's called gambling." He fingered a ten-dollar marker, then tossed it into the middle of the table. Over the course of the game, the minimum bet had migrated upward, from a dollar to five and now ten, which accounted also accounted in part for his mood.
"Too much risk is called stupidity." Tsecha pushed a ten-dollar marker into the pot, then folded his arms and slumped, seemingly oblivious to the nervous laughter that greeted his remark.
"Too little risk is called no fun at all." Lucien riffled through his cards, then pushed a twenty-dollar marker into the pot. "Call and raise."
"I'm out." The security guard tapped his cards together and set them next to the markers. "Getting a little too rich for my mixed-up blood." He pushed back from the table and walked to the line of chairs along the wall, to which the two members of the greenhouse crew had decamped an hour before.
Jani scanned her cards. All her old guides for the calling and raising of bets--rent payments, billet prices, her growling stomach--no longer applied, which removed some of the tension from the game. That leaves beating Lucien into the ground. That, unfortunately, wasn’t working as well as one could have wished. They had played even for the first few hands. Then Jani hit a bad patch, Lucien displayed his usual skill at bluffing, and Tsecha added an entirely new dimension to the phrase 'beginner's luck.' My old teacher is a card sharp. Jani tried toting up the stack of markers piled at his elbow, and lost track after the first thousand.
"If you're going to fold, just do it."
Jani glanced across the table at Lucien. His eyes, rich brown and usually sharp as a cut jewel, shone dull, as though he regarded a stranger. "Call." She set a twenty-dollar marker next to his, then added another. "Raise twenty." She avoided looking at her cards, which were a mess. All four suits. No pairs. No apparent patterns. Oh well. At least she'd set Lucien back on his heels until it came time to show all.
"Forget it." Dieter set his cards atop the guard's. "Some of us are prone to nosebleeds at this altitude."
"Call." Tsecha set two twenties next to Jani's markers, then added three more.
"Raise...sixty." He bared his teeth as a few gasps sounded from the spectators.
Lucien looked from Tsecha, to Jani, then back to Tsecha. "Call." More markers joined the stack.
Dieter stared at Tsecha and shook his head. "My little boy's all grown up."
Jani stared at Tsecha in an effort to draw his eye, but he remained fixed on some middle distance, as though all about him was distraction. Oh, what the hell. "Call." She pushed her remaining markers into the center.
"Ní Tsecha?" Dieter held out the deck. "How many cards do you want?"
Tsecha shook his head. "None."
"None? You're sure?"
"Yes, Dieter."
"You're standing on your cards?"
"No, I am sitting on my chair." Tsecha paused as the light laughter made the rounds. "I have the cards I wish."
"I'll take two." Lucien tossed two cards onto the heap, and picked up the replacements Dieter dealt him. Glanced at his new cards, then sent his last two twenty-dollar markers to join their brethren. "You seem to be experiencing a marker shortage." He smiled at Jani with an innocence that begged a lightning strike. "You can always fold, I suppose."
Jani studied her hand. I have a deuce, and a four. A seven, a ten, and a king. She held her breath, flipped the deuce, ten, and king onto the discard heap, and picked up the replacements Dieter flicked her way. Five. Six. Her heart hammered. Eight. She assembled the straight, then looked down at the bare table in front of her. "This brings back a few memories, too." She smiled as the nervous laughter chittered. "I was forced to bet my boots once."
"Did you win, ná Kièrshia?" came a voice from the spectators' gallery.
"No." Jani's smile faded. "The take-away lesson being that good socks are never a waste of money." She studied her cards until that round of laughter started to die, then quenched the remains by slipping off one of the rings Tsecha had given her. The green stone flashed as she set it atop the markers, like an accusing eye.
Lucien picked up the ring and studied it with an appraiser's air. "Has this been valuated?"
"It was mine, Lucien," Tsecha said quietly. "It is of some value."
"I didn’t mean--" Lucien set the ring down, then eased his hand away. "I didn’t realize we were allowing unconventional betting is all."
"This is Thalassa, Lucien. We are nothing if not unconventional." Tsecha bared his teeth, and set out his cards.
Oh. Boy. Jani tallied them once, then again. In the old days, her augmentation sometimes played tricks at the damnedest times, leading her to hallucinate. But we don’t do that anymore, do we? She checked Tsecha's cards one last time. Three through eight. A straight, just like hers.
Lucien scowled for a bare instant, but recovered quickly. "Three of a kind. Congratulations. Ní Tsecha." He set out his cards, three aces, a king, and a nine, then fixed Jani with narrowed eyes. "Your turn."
Jani set out her cards without a word. The gasps rippled in all directions.
Then the applause started.
"Ná Kièrshia and ní Tsecha have tied." Dieter paused and bit his lip hard in an effort to keep the smile off his face. "They split the pot."
"You get your boots back, nìa!" Tsecha plucked the ring from the pile and handed it back to her. "Except that it is a ring, not boots."
Lucien's stare never left Jani's face. "That will teach me to take on the home team." A grin broke through eventually, which seemed genuine enough if one avoided looking at the eyes.
"You're awfully quiet, ní Tsecha." Jani glanced across the table and watched him study his hand. "You've scarcely spoken since we started."
"I concentrate, nìa. I learn the game." Tsecha rearranged his cards, then laid them face-down on the table. "I still do not understand why I cannot see the cards you toss away."
"Because then you would have a much better idea of which cards are still available." Dieter glared at his own hand, just as he had glared at every hand he'd been dealt over the course of the evening, good or bad. "It removes some of the risk, and risk is the point of the exercise. That's why it's called gambling." He fingered a ten-dollar marker, then tossed it into the middle of the table. Over the course of the game, the minimum bet had migrated upward, from a dollar to five and now ten, which accounted also accounted in part for his mood.
"Too much risk is called stupidity." Tsecha pushed a ten-dollar marker into the pot, then folded his arms and slumped, seemingly oblivious to the nervous laughter that greeted his remark.
"Too little risk is called no fun at all." Lucien riffled through his cards, then pushed a twenty-dollar marker into the pot. "Call and raise."
"I'm out." The security guard tapped his cards together and set them next to the markers. "Getting a little too rich for my mixed-up blood." He pushed back from the table and walked to the line of chairs along the wall, to which the two members of the greenhouse crew had decamped an hour before.
Jani scanned her cards. All her old guides for the calling and raising of bets--rent payments, billet prices, her growling stomach--no longer applied, which removed some of the tension from the game. That leaves beating Lucien into the ground. That, unfortunately, wasn’t working as well as one could have wished. They had played even for the first few hands. Then Jani hit a bad patch, Lucien displayed his usual skill at bluffing, and Tsecha added an entirely new dimension to the phrase 'beginner's luck.' My old teacher is a card sharp. Jani tried toting up the stack of markers piled at his elbow, and lost track after the first thousand.
"If you're going to fold, just do it."
Jani glanced across the table at Lucien. His eyes, rich brown and usually sharp as a cut jewel, shone dull, as though he regarded a stranger. "Call." She set a twenty-dollar marker next to his, then added another. "Raise twenty." She avoided looking at her cards, which were a mess. All four suits. No pairs. No apparent patterns. Oh well. At least she'd set Lucien back on his heels until it came time to show all.
"Forget it." Dieter set his cards atop the guard's. "Some of us are prone to nosebleeds at this altitude."
"Call." Tsecha set two twenties next to Jani's markers, then added three more.
"Raise...sixty." He bared his teeth as a few gasps sounded from the spectators.
Lucien looked from Tsecha, to Jani, then back to Tsecha. "Call." More markers joined the stack.
Dieter stared at Tsecha and shook his head. "My little boy's all grown up."
Jani stared at Tsecha in an effort to draw his eye, but he remained fixed on some middle distance, as though all about him was distraction. Oh, what the hell. "Call." She pushed her remaining markers into the center.
"Ní Tsecha?" Dieter held out the deck. "How many cards do you want?"
Tsecha shook his head. "None."
"None? You're sure?"
"Yes, Dieter."
"You're standing on your cards?"
"No, I am sitting on my chair." Tsecha paused as the light laughter made the rounds. "I have the cards I wish."
"I'll take two." Lucien tossed two cards onto the heap, and picked up the replacements Dieter dealt him. Glanced at his new cards, then sent his last two twenty-dollar markers to join their brethren. "You seem to be experiencing a marker shortage." He smiled at Jani with an innocence that begged a lightning strike. "You can always fold, I suppose."
Jani studied her hand. I have a deuce, and a four. A seven, a ten, and a king. She held her breath, flipped the deuce, ten, and king onto the discard heap, and picked up the replacements Dieter flicked her way. Five. Six. Her heart hammered. Eight. She assembled the straight, then looked down at the bare table in front of her. "This brings back a few memories, too." She smiled as the nervous laughter chittered. "I was forced to bet my boots once."
"Did you win, ná Kièrshia?" came a voice from the spectators' gallery.
"No." Jani's smile faded. "The take-away lesson being that good socks are never a waste of money." She studied her cards until that round of laughter started to die, then quenched the remains by slipping off one of the rings Tsecha had given her. The green stone flashed as she set it atop the markers, like an accusing eye.
Lucien picked up the ring and studied it with an appraiser's air. "Has this been valuated?"
"It was mine, Lucien," Tsecha said quietly. "It is of some value."
"I didn’t mean--" Lucien set the ring down, then eased his hand away. "I didn’t realize we were allowing unconventional betting is all."
"This is Thalassa, Lucien. We are nothing if not unconventional." Tsecha bared his teeth, and set out his cards.
Oh. Boy. Jani tallied them once, then again. In the old days, her augmentation sometimes played tricks at the damnedest times, leading her to hallucinate. But we don’t do that anymore, do we? She checked Tsecha's cards one last time. Three through eight. A straight, just like hers.
Lucien scowled for a bare instant, but recovered quickly. "Three of a kind. Congratulations. Ní Tsecha." He set out his cards, three aces, a king, and a nine, then fixed Jani with narrowed eyes. "Your turn."
Jani set out her cards without a word. The gasps rippled in all directions.
Then the applause started.
"Ná Kièrshia and ní Tsecha have tied." Dieter paused and bit his lip hard in an effort to keep the smile off his face. "They split the pot."
"You get your boots back, nìa!" Tsecha plucked the ring from the pile and handed it back to her. "Except that it is a ring, not boots."
Lucien's stare never left Jani's face. "That will teach me to take on the home team." A grin broke through eventually, which seemed genuine enough if one avoided looking at the eyes.
