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Shuffle

  “Hey, Hey, Heey!”

  A floating screen as big as a passenger cruiser – impossible to avoid.

  “It’s another beautiful day here in Zeema’s paradise. We send a big welcome and three Awooohs for the newcomers.”

  A Newscaster, no, a show host – maybe. The artificial smile of his Co-host lit up.

  “Awoooh, Awooh, Awooh.”

  “Travelers, vagabonds and misfits fear not for your destination has arrived.”

  “Today all sourdough chilli poppers for only 3,99.”

  “3,99 Sandy! That’s a great deal!”

  A disclaimer rushed over the screen. Tiny with a white font, making it indistinguishable from the background.

  Only between 13:00 and 14:00 once. No refunds.

  Riga was munching on something she believed to be dried fruit, but which were really just some tasty chemicals. Ruri and Leido looked at each other, cringing a little, not exactly finding any words to describe what was unfolding in front of them.

  “Today’s weather has good cards for you in check and lady luck smiles upon you Sandy.”

  “You rascal, Tony.”

  They laughed mechanically, eyes locked shut with cheeks so high you might mistake them for a concrete mould.

  “More importantly, lady luck smiles upon you.”

  He frantically pointed at the viewer. More laughter followed.

  “So… It’s - yeah.”

  Leido struggled.

  “It’s a crazy place.”

  Riga slurped away the chemical goo.

  “Yep.”

  The shuttle docked. It was merely a couple of minutes from the outer rings to the sphere. Minutes that felt like half an eternity to Ruri, watching the inescapable sequence of ads, slogans and constructed banter.

  Zeema’s sphere was unironically called the place to be someone by those feeding into the nightmare of allure and temptation. It was the pinnacle of late-stage capitalism, its crown jewel and downfall simultaneously. Casinos, malls, strip clubs – everything a heart might desire and everything that crushes it.

  Lights, dance, drugs and dealers created a stage play that begged for theatrics. Twisted corridors, hostile and shrouded. 300 levels of excess were just a breeding ground for delusion.

  You could win love, fame and fortune with two dice rolls and a Gin tonic, only to lose it on the next.

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  “What does the scanner say?”

  “On it.”

  Riga was already slurping away the two packs of chemical goo her companions happily declined. Despite its grandeur, the main entrance was packed. Aliens, androids, robots and various creatures pushed past each other. Upbeat Jazz echoed between glaring eyes and nervously twitching fingers.

  “They have a pool and a robotics lab.”

  “The target Riga.”

  “Right. He was last seen playing Baccarat. 30 decks above us.”

  Exactly 30 decks above them were the Lucky 8-Ball, just one of the many casinos here on the sphere. Roulette, Poker, Craps and Baccarat. Cheap liquor for even cheaper people. It stood out like ice in a drink.

  Frey chuckled smugly. Neat whiskey in one hand and gleaming red dice in the other.

  “A seven baby.”

  He wore big black suspenders with tactical padding and quick-release buckles over a striped sweater. His clear raincoat was plastered with so many slogans and logos you might think he was sponsored. Within the span of eight hours, he had moved two tables - from Baccarat to Craps. He couldn’t fool anybody. He belonged to that place as much as the stains on the gaming felt.

  “Today is the day, gentlemen.”

  No one was really listening. Two Glimbrocks – big, slimy blobs of flesh with seven eyes and about as many tentacles - sat across from each other, side-eying the enthusiastic start of Frey’s speech. Some fella named Roy lay slumped in his seat, staring down the dice like they might run away at any second. Another one, who hadn’t mentioned his name, seemed happy just to be alive, chugging one drink after another.

  “They only take, take and take. Greedy, their wretched gears keep turning. And someone has to be crushed –”

  He slung his arms in the air, waiting for effect. Waited a second longer for gravitas and searched for interested eyes in the round.

  “The little man. The poor worker’s soul.”

  They couldn’t know, but they were all fairly certain Frey wasn’t a man anyone would describe as a poor worker’s soul.

  “But can you hear it?”

  He started tapping on the table. Nodding and humming in time.

  “How she plays her song?”

  His arms swung up again. A big smirk followed.

  “Lady destiny and her symphony of justice.”

  The Glimbrocks looked at each other uncertain if anyone ever would have to say something to this. Roy, without ever losing sight of the dice:

  “Less talking, more rolling.”

  He was used to being less charismatic than he liked to imagine. Used to be easy to look past and easy to look through. Today it didn’t matter.

  He truly believed that the rigged game he likes to call his life is finally coming around and justice just might be around the corner.

  “Hey.”

  Ruri smiled, her head slightly tilted and her eyes piercing. Frey leaned back with one elbow angled on the rest. He took a sip from his whiskey while loosely looking up at her. He wanted to be smooth about it.

  “Hey.”

  He wasn’t.

  “Just grab a seat. You can squeeze right in but be aware I’m on a lucky streak today.”

  He chuckled.

  “Oh. I’m not much of a gambler.”

  She chuckled.

  Glimbrocks, the drunk and even Roy looked up from the dice. Frey took another sip smiling but ever so slightly it dawned on him. She pushed a chair to the table, not overly dramatic but slow, nonetheless. She fell into it comfortably, already leaning on the table.

  Frey was scanning her. Some would might mistake his sliding eyes as a thorough first glance. Worn jacket, shabby gloves and her blaster openly hanging at the side. Bounty Hunter was written all over her, she never made an effort to hide it.

  Why would she? It’s a fair game.

  One tentacle grabbed the red dice and dropped them right in front of Frey. He was hiding behind that drink, with his eyes still hanging on Ruri.

  She rose her eyebrows.

  “You need to roll.”

  He wanted to laugh but couldn’t. He wasn’t much of an actor after all. The dice rolled back and forth in his hand - shuffling them slowly. The exit on the side was close. He could push the dealer of the poker table beneath them. The elevator was right down the narrow pathway. Even better, a staircase to the left – or maybe on the right. In front was the bigger entrance, you could see the railing just in front of it. There was a fountain below. Shallow – probably.

  “I thought today is the day.”

  He took the last sip in one clean motion.

  “So, I thought.”

  His smugness turned cynic.

  “But it seems like the dice always roll the same.”

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