“Give me another one, Eddie,” Ansley said in a slurred voice. “Put it on my tab.”
“I’m not sure you need another one, Professor,” replied Eduardo, his concern evident.
“Damn it, Eddie, who are you to tell me how much to drink? It isn’t like I’m getting any older. Pour it up!”
“This’ll be your last one. I’ll pour two. We’ll take it together. I can’t keep giving you top shelf drinks on your tab. The manager knows you never pay it.”
“I thought you were the manager, Eddie.”
“That’s right, and you don’t pay.” Despite his protests, the large man poured the two shots.
“Thanks, Eddie. It’s good to know people still respect their elders.” They clinked glasses and drained the contents. Ansley lit a cigarette, took a drag, and looked back to Eduardo.
“You know, as sad as it is, I think you’re my best friend. Perhaps I should take you to the card game tonight.”
“You know you shouldn’t be going to that card game, Professor, and besides, they don’t let non-Nephites in the casino unless it’s to work.” Eduardo moved toward Ansley and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You’re drunk and you already owe them. Go home. Sleep it off. There is always another card game.”
“Ah, but Eddie, what you don’t understand is that every card game I sit out is credits I leave behind.” He stood, waivered, and then sat back down. “Let me try that again.” This time he had more success at standing and without another word, he exited the bar.
As he stepped onto the marbled pavement that made up the streets of the Southern pub district, a dim red glow washed over his face, cast by the night sun. The casino wasn’t more than a few blocks away, which was the main reason he frequented the Devonshire. He felt most at home among the seedier members of Capitol City. Navigating the curving avenue, he was dwarfed by the identical buildings rising on either side of him, distinguishable only by their ornate gold leaf statues and marble relief sculptures. As he rounded the circus, the casino filled his vision with gaudy flashing lights seemingly out of place in the surrounding splendor.
Entering the casino, he moved his shoulders back and added a bounce to his step. Winking at the hostess, Doris, he added a winning smile to his demeanor. The casino always brought about this change. It was a happy place for Ansley. Ignoring the jingling and flashing of the slot machines and the mechanical people operating them, he angled toward the high limit poker room.
Poker was a game with no house odds, just gamblers playing against gamblers, in a game run by gamblers. The casino’s only stake was in the exit taxes they levied on those who won. As Ansley approached the hostess of the room, he gave her a friendly and familiar greeting.
“Hello Sharie,” his affection for her evident in his voice. “I trust you’re having a fine evening. I, too, will be having a fine evening after I teach these young men how the game is played.”
Sharie was beautiful, dark and seductive, like all high limit hostesses. Only the best specimens from the Natural Born were chosen to work the high limit games, entertaining the Nephites, oftentimes in more ways than beverage service. Glancing at Professor Brightmore, she returned the greeting in a cold tone.
“Hello, Professor. I didn’t expect to see you around here after last weekend.
“I had a few too many drinks with one of those young Institute hot shots, not to mention bad luck from the cards. I expect tonight will go better,” returned the Professor.
Sharie leaned, whispering in his ear, “There have been auditors from the Central Tower asking a lot of questions about our books.” Discreetly she slipped a rolled up piece of paper into his hand. He nodded to her in acknowledgement and walked away to the restroom where he could examine its contents. Entering a stall, he unrolled the paper, revealing a handwritten note.
The casino is aware of fund transfer
discrepancies
We need another revenue source
The other members of the Counsel of Elders grow impatient
They want to know how long until the Iris is complete
Wadding up the paper, he flushed it down the toilet. Let them grow impatient. A project of this magnitude had never been attempted in the history of the world. Of course, it would take time and be expensive. He would not rush. Far too much was at stake and far too many people had lost their lives already. He did fear for Sharie though. She would be the first investigated if they found the books were off. All crimes committed by Natural Born within a domed city of the Empire were met with death. He would have to find a safe place for her. Now was not the time to think about it though. His head was spinning from alcohol and he wanted to gamble.
Heading back to the card room, he gave Sharie a nod of acknowledgement. She looked disappointed, as if expecting more, but unhooked the golden clasp and allowed him to pass. Entering the room, the Professor was overwhelmed by the thick smell of cigar smoke, brandy, and perfume from the Natural Born women. Eleven men sat around the console, their faces bathed in the radiant blue light coming from the touch screens on which their cards appeared. Looking down at the console, even as drunk as he was, he couldn’t help but notice the community cards before the players and his head swam with probabilities and calculations that these men couldn’t fathom.
The table chatter ceased upon his approach, ten heads turning toward him in unison. Only the man in front of Ansley abstained from turning as it would have been beneath him. Seeing the elaborate purple robes that clothed him, as well as the long white hair, the Professor recognized Consulate Tiberius Septus. A bodyguard behind the Consulate leaned down and whispered into his ear. The man raised his cigar to his mouth, taking a deep puff. The smoke filled the space in front of him.
“I see the great Professor has decided to give more credits to his superior. So generous of him. I have always felt that the Central Tower overpays our fellow Nephites in the Institute, and I see you are in agreement, being so eager to give it back.”
“You’re a terrible card player, with all due respect. You played the odds wrong every time last week and should have lost. You got lucky.” Ansley felt he could have answered the Consulate with a better, more snarky comment, but the alcohol coursing through his veins prevented him from engaging in wittier repartee.
The other men around the table, a mixture of Institute employees and low level Central Tower officials sat in stunned silence. Tiberius broke the icy awkwardness.
“This is a high stakes game. I assume you can provide the minimum five thousand credit buy-in? Or are you hoping that Sharie will allow you to play with house credits again? Hmm? Sharie, how long does the house plan to extend credit to this drunk?”
Sharie moved behind Ansley, whispering in his ear. “I’m sorry, Professor, but you’ve exceeded your thirty day credit limit and I can’t allow you to be staked until you settle the debt.”
Despite her discretion, the other men and women in the room had heard the hostess and a few laughed, while others looked away embarrassed. Blood rushed to Ansley’s face and there was no way to hide his shame. The Consulate laughed, cold and dismissive.
“How fortunate for the table that the genius is too broke to take our credits!” Tiberius turned around for the first time and looked Ansley in the eyes, his expression filled with accusation. “What happens to all of your money anyway? Spending it on some Natural Born whore outside the dome? Funding Centauri separatists?”
The old physicists’ nerves calmed and he walked over to Tiberius. The Consulate raised his hand to his bodyguard allowing him to pass.
“Well, Tiberius, I usually spend it on booze, although tonight I’m drinking on the house.” He leaned over, grabbed the brandy snifter in front of the seated man, and drank the entire glass.
In an instant he was thrown, first to the ground, then onto the shoulders of the giant bodyguard. The casino was stirring hours later, as patrons recounted in shocked disbelief how they witnessed Professor Ansley Brightmore being carried to the casino door and tossed into the streets of Capitol City.
Given the potential for embarrassment that this fiasco could cause and the possible political ramifications, Tiberius thought it prudent to leave the casino following Ansley’s removal. Escorted by two guards, he was ushered into his vehicle, a large cab that could seat six members of a party, though it still traveled on the same lines as the hawks. One of the guards typed in the coordinates to his mansion on the banks of the Arymides. They escorted him through the gates before retiring for the night to their own homes on the other side of the city.
As Tiberius entered his chambers, his servants unclasped the purple robe that wrapped around his torso, removing it, along with his boots, black pants, and undergarments.
“Is she here?” he asked the servants.
“In the bedroom, your Honor, as you requested,” replied Gallia, his head chamber maid.
“Good. You may leave for the night. I need you here first thing in the morning to upload my notes for the Parliamentary proceedings in three days.”
“As you wish.” Gallia and the other two servants bowed and exited.
Entering the bedroom, he walked naked to the bed, examining the beautiful, petite woman sleeping. Bathed in the dull red glow of the night sun, Kaiya seemed unreal. She stirred as he pulled down the covers and moved beside her. “How did your gambling go, my dear,” she uttered sleepily. “I trust you won again?”
“Of course I won. If these idiots know what is good for them, I will always win.”
“You’re a remarkable man, my love,” returned Kaiya, her voice flat.
Tiberius rubbed a finger along her stomach as she turned toward him, exposing her nakedness. “I saw the Professor tonight. He didn’t fare so well.”
“Arian?”
“No, my dear, not your spy. Professor Brightmore. I had the washed up beggar removed from the casino. I’m no longer going to allow our game to be defiled by that crazy drunk. He’s working with the Centauri, I’m now sure of it.”
“Why do you suspect him of being Centauri?” Kaiya asked in earnest.
“That is my concern, not yours. You just need to get this young professor to find out what he’s up to and get as close to him as possible. I trust you can handle this endeavor?”
Kaiya rubbed his cheek. “It’s already taken care of, my dear. I met him two nights ago at the Four Corners. He didn’t seem willing at first, but I brought Eduardo to the table and he was spooked. He will do as you wish.”
Tiberius moved his hand away from her stomach and gave her a sharp annoyed look.
“Why was I not informed of this? You can’t move freely around Capitol City, even with my protection. You should not have had the meeting at the Four Corners. How did you get my table?”
Kaiya was frightened.
“I knew you were busy, my love. I wanted to surprise you and show you I could handle things like this. I called Maria at the restaurant and requested your table. She’s met me enough times. I thought it would lend gravity to our request.”
“You take too many liberties. Even with my ability to pull strings and allow you to pass as an assistant, if you keep too high of a profile, people will ask questions. If you must know why we are interested in Professor Brightmore, it is because we have informants indicating that he is leaving the city somehow and going into the outside zones. The informants believe he has influence with your kind, although they don’t know in what capacity. Unorganized, they pose no threat, but when led by one with the mental capacities of Brightmore…”
Kaiya grabbed his hand and placed it back on her soft, flat stomach.
“Well then, shouldn’t you be interested in what I found out from Arian?” she asked, her voice soft and high, taking on a girlish quality.
Tiberius’ face softened, his hand sliding to her breast. “And what did you find, my sweet,” he whispered, kissing her neck between each word.
She allowed his hand to stay where it was, but her body tensed. This time, it was she who was annoyed at how flippant he was with her. She gained control of herself. She could never betray emotion in front of the Consulate other than that of loving sweetness.
“He’s working on something. Arian and Eduardo don’t know what, but it sounds big, and for whatever reason, he’s taken an interest in Arian’s research. It’s all over my head, though. You know I wasn’t educated like one of you.”
Tiberius gave her a polite smile, but his face showed concern. What could this be? His mind flashed between a thousand different scenarios, all implausible. What would a particle physicist need from a bio-cybernetics guy? What could the connection be? The idea of a scientific collaboration made him uneasy. They were dangerous and forbidden by the Overseers of Arameus. Could the old drunk be trying to create some sort of bio-weapon? That could be the only explanation. Of course, the dome covering the city protected it from all forms of radiation, but if Brightmore had secret ways into the city of which the guards were unaware and was able to introduce a specially designed bio-organism, great harm could be brought to the citizens of Capitol City, even with the nanocytes.
“You did well, Kaiya,” he said after a moment. “The Overseers will be pleased with my findings. It’s unfortunate that you are Natural Born,” he mused aloud. “If you were of better birth, I think you would be capable of great things.”
Kaiya climbed on top of him, pressing her firm body against his and kissed him, teasing his nose, then his upper lip. He was overwhelmed by her smell. It drove him crazy with desire. He was powerless before the raw sex that she represented.
“My love, you are always too sweet to me,” she said, as she moved him into her.