Cyberstealth by S. N. Lewitt

Author:S. N. Lewitt [Lewitt, S. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Hard Science Fiction, General, Science Fiction, Action & Adventure, Fiction
ISBN: 9781604599183
Google: jvgoRAAACAAJ
Publisher: Fantastic Books
Published: 2010-01-29T05:00:00+00:00

T hey were playing four-deck khandinar, which wasn’t too challenging but could be put down any time. Cargo held four three of spades, which according to his system meant one or two rounds. Even if it was only four-deck.

They were playing a humans-only game. Cargo didn’t have any preferences, but it bothered him that the first thing Ghoster did at any new post was to warn all his species about Cargo’s particular abilities. Some beings would play with him a second time to make sure the first hadn’t just been luck. Often a third was not forthcoming and a fourth unthinkable. The only way he’d gotten his current opponents was the pledge to play for points. Already he was well enough known on the Horn that no one would sit down with him for money.

Plato and Stonewall were in the game, Plato because she was trying to uncover Cargo’s system and Stonewall because, as he had said, he had never been beaten so consistently by anyone. It was a point of honor. Cargo had tried to rope Ghoster in, but he had demurred on the grounds that it was boring to always lose, so instead they had one of the engineering officers. She had already lost more than once to Cargo’s ceaseless gaming during the fifteen days out manifold and the two uneventful days since, and the only things that persuaded her to join them were the fact that no money need be risked and the chance to see the inside of the batwing hangar. As usual, the Krait drivers on the Horn had been less interested in the batwing than the engineers, who found the parameters of stealth more fascinating than the actual working capabilities of the small craft themselves.

“Seven-seven, seven-nine, up by double, calling spades,” Stonewall droned.

Cargo’s face remained impassive. It could go either way for him, even with his quad. “Open second round,” he said quietly. “Seven-nine, nine-three, up by five, spades is called.”

Stonewall’s eyebrows went up and Cargo tried not to laugh. So Stonewall hadn’t expected him to call another round, let alone bring the betting up two levels. He couldn’t have more than two black aces, either. The others had been played. Cargo had been counting.

Plato and the engineer both gave their “in” call. Now there was a moment of silence: the delicate decisions as to how to play out the hand to match up the called point spreads. Cargo decided to pass the third exchange. He held good cards, he told himself. There were no bad cards, only stupid plays. Each card could be used to advantage.

As others took the third exchange, he shifted the position of the cards in his hand, rearranging them and fanning them out again singlehanded. The screen of the viewtable was obscured by various throws and casts, as well as a couple of unofficial running tallies in the small windows at each place. The graphite colored antiglare shield that made up most of the surface of the table had

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