Mardock Scramble полностью

–The man on the far left is exchanging information with the dealer and the man wearing the suit. I just picked up on that. As for the rest, I just observed for a while, and I can tell how certain people start to smell when they get dealt a certain hand.

Balot found herself growing more and more impressed as Oeufcoque’s words appeared on her hand.

–The man on the left is broadcasting who has what pairs in relation to the community cards. He’s using the position of the chip in his right hand to show the others the strongest hand among us marks. The shape and posture of his left hand is showing them what the other people have, and whether the dealer is able to deal the man in the suit a stronger hand or not. The man in the suit placed his chips the way he did to signal for the river card to be an ace.

–They can manipulate the cards that are dealt too?

–They have certain cards concealed in the card shoe. Marked cards. The sort you can identify by touch—a funny shaped corner, or one card slightly bigger than the others. They don’t need to mark every single one; as long as they have a couple of high cards such as aces and kings, and know which suit is which, they have an overwhelming advantage.

Balot noticed that the dealer’s hands did indeed brush against the cards in the card shoe now and then. The move was disguised so that it looked entirely natural, but she could see that he was definitely feeling the shape of the cards.

–The sneaks!

–Looks like the mechanics are about to win.

The old gentleman folded, and the Doctor folded too.

The cowboy raised and raised again, through gritted teeth that ground together so noisily that Balot thought they might crumble to bits. She almost felt sorry for him, the sitting duck that the mechanics were preparing to pluck and roast.

The betting was finally over, and the cowboy revealed his hand with vigor. Three jacks. Just as Oeufcoque had predicted.

The cowboy’s manner seemed to suggest that it was a close call but he felt he had a good chance of victory.

But that was what good cheating was all about—making the mark feel he has a chance when in reality he has none.

The suit revealed his hand. The cowboy recoiled.

Three aces. It was just like the previous hand, except the shoe was now on the other foot.

Balot watched the chips flow over to the suit, and at last she realized what was happening. You needed bait to catch a sucker, and what better bait than another sucker? They let the cowboy win at first, then just as he started getting into the mood they would take it all back from him and then some, all the while keeping alive the flame of false hope that he might still have a chance.

The suit won the next hand too. After that the old gentleman won, then the cowboy, then back to the suit.

As far as Balot and the Doctor were concerned, money was only flowing one way. They gave a convincing impression of a pair who were delighted just to be there and happy to pay for the privilege of being allowed to participate.

The mechanics weren’t slow to recognize this. In other words, they made sure that Balot and the Doctor had good cards, or at least good enough to dangle a glimmer of false hope before them before pulling it away at the last minute—until the next hand.

The second round of betting had just begun when Oeufcoque suddenly asked Balot a question.

–Do you think you could snarc one of the overhead cameras?

–Probably, yes.

–Try shifting the camera that’s watching over your hand.

Balot did so. She sensed the security cameras on the ceiling without so much as a glance in their direction.