Mardock Scramble полностью

The Doctor looked up to the ceiling as if he had just realized his grave error. “Hum…look, just don’t tell your father that you heard about such a thing from me, will you?”

–Okay. So what sort of rule is it?

“It’s not a rule, exactly.” The Doctor seemed to be searching for the right words. “Card counting is, well, it’s counting the cards. Remembering what’s come before. If you know what’s already gone, you have a better chance at guessing what comes next, right?”

–Wow! Sounds exciting! Will you show me how it’s done?

“Uh…erm…” the Doctor swallowed his tongue. The lady next to him burst into a giggling fit. The old man and the monocled man were both grinning at the scene unfolding in front of them. They knew all about card counting. How it wasn’t so much considered a tactic as it was a serious threat to the casino. “It’s only grubby little card sharps who try and use card counting to rip off the casino. Gambling is a game of luck and courage. It’s only cowards who don’t trust their luck who try such a thing. It’s not appropriate for a young lady like you.”

The Doctor was passionate in his lecture.

–Hmm.

Balot looked disappointed—bored, even. The doctor raised a finger and waggled it from side to side. “Casinos exist to be battled fair and square. Gambling is enjoyable precisely because you don’t know whether you are going to win or lose.” He pressed his point home.

Fair and square. Not remotely true, of course. The odds on most games were stacked firmly in the house’s favor. Still, Balot nodded, as if to say that she thought she understood.

–I still don’t understand why were you talking about card counting as if it was such a bad thing, though.

“Professional gamblers spoil all the fun for us proper players. The game is there to be enjoyed. In any case, how are you supposed to memorize all the cards in six decks of cards? It’s impossible for one person to do it—you’d need a whole gang of you on the case.

–But I thought you were good with numbers, Uncle?

“Sure, as long as I have a calculator at hand.”

The others around the table all laughed at this. This was better than a sitcom. Fun for all the family—and, indeed, it was starting to feel like a family gathering.

Thus it was that Balot and the Doctor accomplished their first task: to draw the others into their world, make them laugh, make them relax, lower their guards. Not to win big, not to steal all the money from the other players. But to win steadily. This was what casinos feared the most. Players who won and won, bit by bit, undermining their whole operation. Earthquakes had caused less damage to casinos.

This was the table, and the dealer, that the Doctor and Balot had been aiming for all along. None of their conversation had been wasted.

Before long the dealer finished the shuffle, and the comedy show drew to a natural close.

“Please place this marker wherever you like in the pack of cards,” said the dealer, handing a transparent red card to Balot. It was the last step in the shuffle. He had chosen Balot for the task as he knew this would meet with the approval of the whole table. Balot did as she was asked and placed the marker somewhere in the middle of the pile.

The dealer cut the cards again, so that the red marker was now in the final thirty or so of the 312 cards. When during the course of play the cards reached the red marker it would be game over and time to reshuffle. This was a measure taken by the casino to give the appearance of fairness—after all, it was one of the players who got to decide where the marker was placed. More importantly, though, it protected the casino from card counting—even if a player had somehow managed to memorize all the cards, they wouldn’t have the opportunity to use this to their advantage at the tail end of the deck.

There were 312 cards in all. They were all placed in the card shoe, and the lid placed on top.

The dealer placed his hand on the first card and looked around at the players.

All conversation had stopped. The only sound to break the silence was the clatter of chips as they were placed on the table. The atmosphere was at once both calm and fevered. Balot gripped her chips tightly in her hands and then, when she was ready, placed them down on the table in front of her. They made a satisfying click as they landed.

The game was about to begin.

THE THIRD EXHAUST

CRANK SHAFT

01

To survive—that was what Balot thought in response to the cards that were dealt to her.