Roko, Zepeda, Hartwell and Demboba sat around one of the base commissary tables—engaged in a game of poker. It was Hartwell’s turn as he held his cards close to the vest. He had a penchant for taking his sweet ass time, whenever they played. Probably his way of lulling everyone to sleep so he would have a better chance to win.
He placed two cards face-down on the table and replaced them with two new ones. Zepeda was up now. She checked the deck in the center, lifting the card to reveal a two of clubs.
“What are you doing?” Roko said.
“I don’t like what I have. You know what, fuck it.”
Zepeda tossed the cards onto the table and folded. She crossed her arms and turned to Roko. It was his turn next. He took the card she had lifted and placed it with the used pile.
“You could’ve stayed in the game, Ime.”
“Yeah, whatever. Isn’t it strange that moon-base living isn’t that much different than living on the Yellow Rover?” She said. “I mean, we’re breathing artificial oxygen, eating highly processed rations and we have to think twice about going outside.”
He re-examined his hand. Zepeda didn’t have the worst hand among them, Roko did. He had zero pairs and none of his cards were within a single number of the other. A deuce, a five, a nine, a jack and a king. He didn’t want to know what the probability of having a hand like this was. Roko took his five and jack and replaced them with a six and a queen.
Are you fucking kidding me?
It was Demboba’s turn now.
“No offense Imelda, but what you’re describing sounds exactly the same.” Demboba said.
“Ladies and gentlemen, master of the obvious, I give you Doctor Demboba.” Zepeda applauded in a mocking manner. “That was my point, Saga. There’s no variety up here. Even after all that excitement—here we are—sitting around, twiddling our thumbs, playing cards again.”
“I get where you’re coming from, but a lot of good people died down there and no amount of excitement’s gonna make that go away.” Roko said.
“Agreed.” Hartwell added.
Banging could be heard near one of the entrances as Roko looked to see Biancuzzo standing there.
“Sorry to interrupt.” The captain said. “I’m doing a head count. You all didn’t happen to see where Sam and Delly went, did you?”
“No sir. Did you buzz ‘em?” Hartwell said.
“Yeah, I did. Alright, thanks.”
The captain turned around and left. Roko turned back to the game. Demboba was just sitting there.
“Saga, are you gonna make a move or what?” He asked.
“Hold on, my dear Roko-san. Perfection takes time. And if there’s anything we don’t have a shortage of—it’s that.”
He chuckled as Hartwell and Zepeda did as well.
Ain’t that the truth.