Mardock Scramble полностью

Oeufcoque was as wishy-washy as ever.

The old gentleman folded. Just the suit and the cowboy left to beat.

They both raised to the end, as did Balot.

The cowboy was the first to show his hand.

6 and J. Full house. The gloating grin that covered his entire face contrasted sharply with the curt smile of the suit.

The suit then opened his hands to reveal his hand: A and A. A full house, aces over jacks. Virtually unbeatable. To do so would require a now-impossible full house of aces over kings or queens, an incredibly rare four of a kind, or an even rarer straight flush or a royal straight flush. And four of a kind was also impossible at this point in the hand, the cowboy having played the third jack. All that was left was the infinitesimally small chance of a straight flush or a royal straight flush.

So everyone was confident that the suit would now win.

The cowboy gritted his teeth, rolled his eyes, and watched as the suit leaned over to claim his chips.

–I do believe I’ve won, Balot said aloud. Nobody quite seemed to understand her at first. A second later, the old gentleman sitting next to her let out a loud cry. All eyes were now on Balot, and all were silent.

K and Q.

The suit, the potbelly, and the dealer were all horrified.

The king and queen of clubs, joined by the jack, ten, and ace.

The hand so rare that it could, for all intents and purposes, be discounted for normal playing purposes. The odds against it were roughly 65,000 to one. A royal straight flush.

–I have won, haven’t I?

Balot appeared uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze. She looked as if she were worried that she might have gotten it wrong and was visibly relieved when the dealer nodded in affirmation.

Suddenly there was a burst of excitement all around. Passersby were stopping to gawk at Balot’s hand.

Balot started raking in the mountain of chips—over three thousand dollars total—when the dealer added a number of thousand-dollar chips to the pile, along with some sort of certificate. It seemed that the house provided a special prize to anyone who made a royal straight flush. On top of the bonus cash was a free night in the suite of the casino’s sister hotel, a number of tokens to exchange for prizes at reception, and instructions on how to arrange for the commemorative photograph at the table.

The dealer seemed calm and composed enough, but Oeufcoque had different ideas.

–He smells of anger and fear.

The table had originally been selected by the Doctor after he had carefully scrutinized the casino records. He chose it because its patterns diverged slightly from the house average. Not quite enough to draw the suspicion of the house—yet—but any further deviations from the norm would be likely to result in a lot of interest in the dealer’s actions.

And it wasn’t only the winners who caused the averages to go askew.

When a plan to swindle marks goes bad, it can go really bad—and that was when the most extreme outcomes emerged.

–They’ll probably start to get serious about now. And that’s when we go in for the kill. Cheaters have it tough in legal casinos, in a very different way from illegal ones.

Balot felt Oeufcoque’s explanation in the palm of her hand.

–Legal casinos consider cheats to be the worst hazard there is—they’re bad for business, and they interfere with the family-friendly image that the casinos try so hard to cultivate. A cheat who is caught faces immediate expulsion, a permanent ban from all casinos, and he’ll never be able to work in the gaming industry ever again. He won’t even be allowed to own shares in a casino or take a backroom role. He’ll be out, thoroughly and with absolute finality.

This was why the dealer and the other mechanics now had to try and bring the table back toward average. Their livelihoods, if not their lives, were at stake. If you pricked them, would they not bleed? The answer was: most definitely.

–I’m sure the mechanics have been moving from table to table, using their same tricks every time. But if we can wrong-foot just one of them—well, catch one, catch all.

The dealer’s actions and his shifty, sharp eye movements seemed to confirm Oeufcoque’s every word.