Deathworld Page 2

  II.

  The robot teller at the bank just pinged with electronic shock when hepresented one of the bills and flashed a panel that directed him to seeVice President Wain. Wain was a smooth customer who bugged his eyes andlost some of his tan when he saw the sheaf of bills.

  "You ... wish to deposit these with us?" he asked while his fingersunconsciously stroked them.

  "Not today," Jason said. "They were paid to me as a debt. Would youplease check that they are authentic and change them? I'd like fivehundred thousand credit notes."

  Both of his inner chest pockets were packed tight when he left the bank.The bills were good and he felt like a walking mint. This was the firsttime in his entire life that carrying a large sum of money made himuncomfortable. Waving to a passing helicab he went directly to theCasino, where he knew he would be safe--for a while.

  Cassylia Casino was the playspot of the nearby cluster of star systems.It was the first time Jason had seen it, though he knew its type well.He had spent most of his adult life in casinos like this on otherworlds. The decor differed but they were always the same. Gambling andsocialities in public--and behind the scenes all the private vice youcould afford. Theoretically no-limit games, but that was true only up toa certain point. When the house was really hurt the honest games stoppedbeing square and the big winner had to watch his step very carefully.These were the odds Jason dinAlt had played against countless timesbefore. He was wary but not very concerned.

  The dining room was almost empty and the major-domo quickly rushed tothe side of the relaxed stranger in the richly cut clothes. Jason waslean and dark, looking more like the bored scion of some rich familythan a professional gambler. This appearance was important and hecultivated it. The cuisine looked good and the cellar turned out to bewonderful. He had a professional talk with the sommelier while waitingfor the soup, then settled down to enjoy his meal.

  He ate leisurely and the large dining room was filled before he wasthrough. Watching the entertainment over a long cigar killed some moretime. When he finally went to the gaming rooms they were filled andactive.

  Moving slowly around the room he dropped a few thousand credits. Hescarcely noticed how he played, giving more attention to the feel of thegames. The play all seemed honest and none of the equipment was rigged.That could be changed very quickly, he realized. Usually it wasn'tnecessary, house percentage was enough to assure a profit.

  Once he saw Kerk out of the corner of his eye but he paid him noattention. The ambassador was losing small sums steadily atseven-and-silver and seemed to be impatient. Probably waiting for Jasonto begin playing seriously. He smiled and strolled on slowly.

  Jason settled on the dice table as he usually did. It was the surest wayto make small winnings. _And if I feel it tonight I can clean thiscasino out!_ That was his secret, the power that won for himsteadily--and every once in a while enabled him to make a killing andmove on quickly before the hired thugs came to get the money back.

  * * * * *

  The dice reached him and he threw an eight the hard way. Betting waslight and he didn't push himself, just kept away from the sevens. Hemade the point and passed a natural. Then he crapped out and the dicemoved on.

  Sitting there, making small automatic bets while the dice went aroundthe table, he thought about the power. _Funny, after all the years ofwork we still don't know much about_ psi. _They can train people a bit,and improve skills a bit--but that's all._

  He was feeling strong tonight, he knew that the money in his pocket gavehim the extra lift that sometimes helped him break through. With hiseyes half closed he picked up the dice--and let his mind gently caressthe pattern of sunken dots. Then they shot out of his hand and he staredat a seven.

  It was there.

  Stronger than he had felt it in years. The stiff weight of thosemillion-credit notes had done it. The world all around was sharp-cutclear and the dice was completely in his control. He knew to thetenth-credit how much the other players had in their wallets and wasaware of the cards in the hands of the players behind him.

  Slowly, carefully, he built up the stakes.

  There was no effort to the dice, they rolled and sat up like traineddogs. Jason took his time and concentrated on the psychology of theplayers and the stick man. It took almost two hours to build his moneyon the table to seven hundred thousand credits. Then he caught the stickman signaling they had a heavy winner. He waited until the hard-eyed manstrolled over to watch the game, then he smiled happily, bet all histable stakes--and blew it on one roll of the dice. The house man smiledhappily, the stick man relaxed--and out of the corner of his eye Jasonsaw Kerk turning a dark purple.

  Sweating, pale, his hand trembling ever so slightly, Jason opened thefront of his jacket and pulled out one of the envelopes of new bills.Breaking the seal with his finger he dropped two of them on the table.

  "Could we have a no-limit game?" he asked, "I'd like to--win back someof my money."

  The stick man had trouble controlling his smile now, he glanced acrossat the house man who nodded a quick _yes_. They had a sucker and theymeant to clean him. He had been playing from his wallet all evening, nowhe was cracking into a sealed envelope to try for what he had lost. Athick envelope too, and probably not his money. Not that the house caredin the least. To them money had no loyalties. The play went on with theCasino in a very relaxed mood.

  Which was just the way Jason wanted it. He needed to get as deep intothem as he could before someone realized _they_ might be on the losingend. The rough stuff would start and he wanted to put it off as long aspossible. It would be hard to win smoothly then--and his _psi_ powermight go as quickly as it had come. That had happened before.

  He was playing against the house now, the two other players were obviousshills, and a crowd had jammed solidly around to watch. After losing andwinning a bit he hit a streak of naturals and his pile of gold chipstottered higher and higher. There was nearly a billion there, heestimated roughly. The dice were still falling true, though he wassoaked with sweat from the effort. Betting the entire stack of chips hereached for the dice. The stick man reached faster and hooked them away.

  "House calls for new dice," he said flatly.

  Jason straightened up and wiped his hands, glad of the instant's relief.This was the third time the house had changed dice to try and break hiswinning streak, it was their privilege. The hard-eyed Casino man openedhis wallet as he had done before and drew out a pair at random.Stripping off their plastic cover he threw them the length of the tableto Jason. They came up a natural seven and Jason smiled.

  When he scooped them up the smile slowly faded. The dice weretransparent, finely made, evenly weighted on all sides--and crooked.

  The pigment on the dots of five sides of each die was some heavy metalcompound, probably lead. The sixth side was a ferrous compound. Theywould roll true unless they hit a magnetic field--that meant the entiresurface of the table could be magnetized. He could never have spottedthe difference if he hadn't _looked_ at the dice with his mind. But whatcould he do about it?

  Shaking them slowly he glanced quickly around the table. There was whathe needed. An ashtray with a magnet in its base to hold it to the metaledge of the table. Jason stopped shaking the dice and looked at themquizzically, then reached over and grabbed the ashtray. He dropped thebase against his hand.

  As he lifted the ashtray there was a concerted gasp from all sides. Thedice were sticking there, upside down, box cars showing.

  "Are these what you call honest dice?" he asked.

  The man who had thrown out the dice reached quickly for his hip pocket.Jason was the only one who saw what happened next. He was watching thathand closely, his own fingers near his gun butt. As the man dived intohis pocket a hand reached out of the crowd behind him. From itssquare-cut size it could have belonged to only one person. The thickthumb and index finger clamped swiftly around the house man's wrist,then they were gone. The man screamed shrilly and held up his arm, hishand da
ngling limp as a glove from the broken wrist bones.

  * * * * *

  With his flank well protected, Jason could go on with the game. "The olddice if you don't mind," he said quietly.

  Dazedly the stick man pushed them over. Jason shook quickly and rolled.Before they hit the table he realized he couldn't control them--thetransient _psi_ power had gone.

  End over end they turned. And faced up seven.

  Counting the chips as they were pushed over to him he added up a bitunder two billion credits. They would be winning that much if he leftthe game now--but it wasn't the three billion that Kerk needed. Well, itwould have to be enough. As he reached for the chips he caught Kerk'seye across the table and the other man shook his head in a steady _no_.

  "Let it ride," Jason said wearily, "one more roll."

  He breathed on the dice, polished them on his cuff, and wondered how hehad ever gotten into this spot. Billions riding on a pair of dice. Thatwas as much as the annual income of some planets. The only reason there_could_ be stakes like that was because the planetary government had astake in the Casino. He shook as long as he could, reaching for thecontrol that wasn't there--then let fly.

  Everything else had stopped in the Casino and people were standing ontables and chairs to watch. There wasn't a sound from that large crowd.The dice bounced back from the board with a clatter loud in the silenceand tumbled over the cloth.

  A five and a one. Six. He still had to make his point. Scooping up thedice Jason talked to them, mumbled the ancient oaths that brought luckand threw again.

  It took five throws before he made the six.

  The crowd echoed his sigh and their voices rose quickly. He wanted tostop, take a deep breath, but he knew he couldn't. Winning the money wasonly part of the job--they now had to get away with it. It had to lookcasual. A waiter was passing with a tray of drinks. Jason stopped himand tucked a hundred-credit note in his pocket.

  "Drinks are on me," he shouted while he pried the tray out of thewaiter's hands. Well-wishers cleared the filled glasses away quickly andJason piled the chips onto the tray. They more than loaded it, but Kerkappeared that moment with a second tray.

  "I'll be glad to help you, sir, if you will permit me," he said.

  Jason looked at him, and laughed permission. It was the first time hehad a clear look at Kerk in the Casino. He was wearing loose, purpleevening pajamas over what must have been a false stomach. The sleeveswere long and baggy so he looked fat rather than muscular. It was asimple but effective disguise.

  Carefully carrying the loaded trays, surrounded by a crowd of excitedpatrons, they made their way to the cashier's window. The managerhimself was there, wearing a sickly grin. Even the grin faded when hecounted the chips.

  "Could you come back in the morning," he said, "I'm afraid we don't havethat kind of money on hand."

  "What's the matter," Kerk shouted, "trying to get out of paying him? Youtook _my_ money easy enough when I lost--it works both ways!"

  The onlookers, always happy to see the house lose, growled theirdisagreement. Jason finished the matter in a loud voice.

  "I'll be reasonable, give me what cash you have and I'll take a checkfor the balance."

  There was no way out. Under the watchful eye of the gleeful crowd themanager packed an envelope with bills and wrote a check. Jason took aquick glimpse at it, then stuffed it into an inside pocket. With theenvelope under one arm he followed Kerk towards the door.

  Because of the onlookers there was no trouble in the main room, but justas they reached the side entrance two men moved in, blocking the way.

  "Just a moment--" one said. He never finished the sentence. Kerk walkedinto them without slowing and they bounced away like tenpins. Then Kerkand Jason were out of the building and walking fast.

  "Into the parking lot," Kerk said. "I have a car there."

  When they rounded the corner there was a car bearing down on them.Before Jason could get his gun clear of the holster Kerk was in front ofhim. His arm came up and his big ugly gun burst through the cloth of hissleeve and jumped into his hand. A single shot killed the driver and thecar swerved and crashed. The other two men in the car died coming out ofthe door, their guns dropping from their hands.

  After that they had no trouble. Kerk drove at top speed away from theCasino, the torn sleeve of his pajamas whipping in the breeze, givingglimpses of the big gun back in the holster.

  "When you get the chance," Jason said, "you'll have to show me how thattrick holster works."

  "When we get the chance," Kerk answered as he dived the car into thecity access tube.