(eng) Mike Resnick - Oracle Trilogy 03 by Prophet

(eng) Mike Resnick - Oracle Trilogy 03 by Prophet

Author:Prophet [Prophet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


15.

The Kid nursed his next beer for half an hour, then wandered over to the casino.

It was a large room, far larger than the Iceman's on Last Chance. There were half a dozen blackjack tables, four poker tables, a pair of roulette wheels, a craps table, a billiard table, two jabob games, and another alien game that he had never seen before.

The casino was relatively empty when the Kid arrived. There were perhaps fifteen men and women playing the various games, and not a single alien to be seen. The Kid immediately spotted Mboya, the solitary player at one of the roulette wheels, and walked over to him.

“Hello, Neil,” said Mboya with a friendly smile. “Glad you decided to come on over.”

“There was nothing else to do,” said the Kid with a shrug. “By the way, do I call you Mr. Mboya or Mr. Death?”

Mboya laughed. “James will do.”

“But you are The Black Death?” persisted the Kid.

“Some people call me that.” Mboya studied the table, then placed a pair of chips on Odd and another on Red.

“I see you like to play it safe,” noted the Kid.

“The odds are 35-to-1 that you'll lose if you bet on a number,” answered Mboya. “I don't really expect to win when I come here, but I'd like my money to last long enough for me to enjoy myself for a couple of hours.”

“Why are you here at all?” asked the Kid.

“I like to gamble. Where should I be?”

“Talking to me. That was your assignment, wasn't it?”

“I am talking to you,” said Mboya easily. “No reason why I shouldn't enjoy myself while I'm doing it.”

“Does she send you out to talk to every newcomer to Mozart?” asked the Kid.

“No,” said Mboya as the wheel started spinning. “Just the ones she's curious about.”

“Why is she curious about me?”

Mboya shrugged. “Who knows what makes her curious, or why she does anything she does?” He cursed beneath his breath as the number came up Even and Black. “Damn! You wouldn't think anyone could lose this consistently! I bet Black four times in a row and it comes up Red all four times ... so I finally bet Red, and it comes up Black. If I didn't know better, I'd say the wheel was rigged.”

“What makes you think it isn't?” asked the Kid.

“Because if it was, no man having anything to do with this casino would be alive tomorrow morning,” answered Mboya seriously. “And they know it.” He stared at the table again, trying to decide which number to bet, then finally shrugged and straightened up. “I've had enough of this game. It's time to find a slower way to lose my money.” He spotted the empty pool table. “You ever shoot any pool, Neil?”

“Once in a while.”

“Good,” said Mboya, walking to the table and studying its green felt surface. “Care to play for a small stake, just to make it interesting?”

“It wouldn't be fair,” said the Kid.

“I'm not a hustler,” Mboya assured him.

“I know. It wouldn't be fair, because you can't win.



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