Mardock Scramble полностью

–Humans have a natural tendency to order things in their mind, to put things into neat boxes so that they can better understand them. We need to make sure that the visual cues we give off are consistent with that—in other words, we need to look as we’re supposed to be feeling.

–I don’t understand at all…

–For example, when you’re thinking about something you really like, your eyes look to your left. When there’s something you don’t like the idea of, your eyes shift to your far right. When you think about something you admire, they fix on a point in the distance somewhat to the left. Oh, there are plenty of individual variations on the theme, of course, but statistically speaking most people tend to have the same “tells”—there’s a fixed pattern. Those who are skilled manipulators can train themselves to be able to read people by just their eyes and body language, working out their opponent’s thoughts and feelings without them even saying a word.

–This dealer is checking me out?

–Of course—it’s one of the basic principles of psychological manipulation. As I said, not just eye movements but also the positioning of your hands and feet, the way your face is turned, the slope of your shoulders: all these are supposed to be a map, a diagram to someone’s current psychological state.

Balot looked at her cards and couldn’t help but feel a scowl, even if she didn’t show it. Had the dealer really been watching her so all along? Like a Peeping Tom? It wasn’t a nice feeling.

Determined to destroy the picture that the dealer had so assiduously drawn, Balot now shifted this way and that. Then sometimes she would confuse him further by refusing to respond at all to the cards, keeping her posture frozen. It didn’t take much. The dealer, who had been ruling the roost at his table, manipulating the players every which way, was now dancing to Balot’s tune—and he didn’t even realize it.

She would smile aimlessly, apropos of nothing, and the dealer would be forced to smile back. Then she would go all grumpy, causing the dealer to turn serious, wondering what the matter could be. Before long, Balot was sure that if she asked him to jump, his only response would be “How high?”

–I think the time is now ripe to enlist the Doctor to our cause.

As Oeufcoque spoke, Balot noticed that a new strategy chart appeared on her left hand—the Doctor’s moves.

Balot waited for the Doctor to bust, then offered to help.

–Looks like I’m better than you at predicting the cards, Uncle. I’ll give you some tips on what you need to do to win.

The Doctor raised a finger and wagged it from side to side, as if to say his pride wouldn’t permit him to take advice from a girl. “Don’t you worry about me. It might look like I’m losing at the moment, but you never know when my luck might start to turn.”

Balot smiled, but under the table she nudged the Doctor softly with her tiptoe. The Doctor nudged her back. Confirmation. He’d understood the plan. However many sensors there may have been overhead, none of them would have been able to see under the table, surely? There wasn’t any watching the customer down there. Not usually.

Starting from the very next hand, Balot fed Oeufcoque’s instructions to the Doctor under the table.

First, one tap on the side of the Doctor’s foot. The signal to hit. The Doctor hmmed.

Then the dealer brushed against his earpiece and whispered a few words into the built-in microphone.