Mardock Scramble

The last of the four million-dollar chips was finally released to return home to the other side of the table. Balot threw it into the pot like she was tossing a coin down a wishing well.

The golden chip was retrieved and slammed shut into its holding box just as the red marker appeared. Game over.

Balot rose from her seat and handed her one remaining chip—a ten-thousand-dollar piece—over to the Doctor beside her.

The Doctor rolled the chip around in the palm of his hand thoughtfully, as if he’d fallen foul of the classic gambler’s cliche—If only we’d stopped when the going was good.

A solitary ten-thousand-dollar chip. At one point they’d managed to swell their seed money of two thousand dollars by a factor of two thousand, and now this was all they had left.

The Doctor did the only thing that anyone with an ounce of adventure in them could do. “I wonder if we could keep this chip as a souvenir?”

Ashley smiled. “Well, since you’ve come this far…” He glanced at Shell’s face to get the house’s permission. He gave it, and as he now had his hands full with a reinvigorated Cleanwill John October instead of the feared nuclear meltdown, he was now radiating electricity.

“That should be fine, sir. Do feel free to take it as a memento of today’s great battle,” Ashley said respectfully, and the Doctor clutched the chip tight in his hands for all on the floor to see.

The Doctor’s act, and indeed the whole play, was now brought to a close. This was the climax.

“I wonder if I might be permitted to walk you to the casino entrance?” asked Ashley. Bell Wing stood beside him, silently asking the same question.

Balot accepted their offer wordlessly and graciously. The Doctor, too, gave his tacit consent.

The four of them left the VIP room, watched by a throng of other customers and dealers.

“Do you have any concerns about finding your way home?” Ashley asked. Shall I show you another route? he was asking. A hidden escape route?

“Thanks for the offer, but we had all that double-checked before we arrived.” The Doctor confirmed that it had all been cleared in advance with the limousine company, and that Ashley need not worry. Ashley shrugged his shoulders, impressed as ever with the thoroughness of the Doctor’s preparations.

“Really, anyone would think you were a pair of professional bank robbers,” he added.

Eventually the four of them stopped in front of the somewhat surreal intersection between the casino and the hotel.

Balot looked straight into Bell Wing’s face. Her eyes asked whether they would ever be able to meet again.

“I’ll still be a croupier and I’ll carry on spinning the wheel. Not here, but some other casino. That’s not for you to worry about. If you do feel like it then I’d welcome a visit from you anytime.”

–Thank you. And goodbye.

“Sure, goodbye,” said Ashley.

“Goodbye,” said Bell Wing.

03

–Just wait a minute!

Shell’s voice was on the other end of the cell phone. He sounded like a swimmer confronted by the sudden appearance of a fin right in front of his face.

Boiled was pressing down on the gas pedal so hard that it almost burrowed into the floor of the car. He sped down the highway, one hand on the wheel, the other holding Shell’s voice to his ear.

“You’ve had your capital returned to you, haven’t you? You still have the source of the trade you’re planning?”

–It’s not that. Something’s wrong. How can I put it—I don’t feel any better.

“Better?”

–It’s as if they deliberately gave it all back to me for some reason…

“I need their location. Set someone on their tail, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Boiled’s voice was as unconcerned as ever, and he spoke with crushing finality. I know all I need to know, he was saying.

–Please. Boiled. Make them disappear. Make everything disappear. I want my flashbacks gone.

“I understand. That’s my usefulness, after all.”

Boiled cut the call. With the same hand he activated the FrontView Screen. Normally it wouldn’t come on except to warn him that he was over the speed limit, but now a translucent light display flashed up, displaying a map of the casino and its environs and Boiled’s current location.

“I know your escape route—Oeufcoque.”

A red line extended from the casino to display a predicted route. A blue line extended from the marker signifying Boiled’s location, and the line stretched ahead until it intersected with the red line, running parallel with it thereafter.

Just then the other side of the FrontView Screen was splashed by a drop of water. For one moment Boiled’s attention turned not to the screen nor even the highway beyond it, but up to the skies.

Scattered droplets of rain soon turned into a sheer downpour, millions of lines streaking down the windshield.

Boiled’s eyes turned back to the road. Unconsciously, his mouth started forming words.

“Curiosity—that’s right. I wanted to use you, to see what it would be like…”

It was hard to believe, but true. Boiled’s hand went up to his chest, as if he were trying to physically suppress the confusion rising up inside him.

For a moment, he couldn’t cope, and the bewildering sensation of not knowing himself spread across his face.

The unstoppable feeling rose to his throat, stuck there, and then eventually erupted out in the form of a thunderous laugh. There was no trace of humor in his voice, no sign of the milk of human kindness showing in his face, and yet he laughed and laughed and laughed.

The windows trembled. The roaring laughter continued. Real thunder, now, and lightning could be seen on the other side of the windshield, amid the ever-thickening downpour.

Boiled continued to laugh, the primeval sound echoing into the night. “Oeufcoque! I wanted to use you! Just use you!” He was exploding. Every bit as terrifying as the thunder outside.

And unstoppable. “That’s my usefulness! That’s right, that’s my usefulness! To get back what I’ve lost in life, to make up for everything I’ve done! Come back to me, Oeufcoque. I’m going to give you my own usefulness!”

?

“Let’s go home.” Oeufcoque spoke from Balot’s right hand after she’d put the gloves back on.

A gentle shower of rain fell on them. Balot felt the rain through her gloves. What she didn’t feel was any strong sense of victory. All she felt was a shaky sense of relief.

The red convertible’s sensors had picked up on the rain, and by the time Balot arrived at the car park the car was covered by the roof that had automatically emerged from the rear side.

“You haven’t forgotten anything, have you?” the Doctor asked with a gentle smile, and Balot waved her hand to say she hadn’t.

Inside her gloves, pressed against her flesh, were the four chips, safely packed away.

“We don’t touch the whites or the shells. Just the yolk,” the Doctor said, inserting the key into the ignition. Balot fastened her seat belt.

The car drove off. Balot closed her eyes and tuned in to her surroundings.

No one was following them. All pursuers were scattered. That much was confirmed.

The Doctor had prepared a triple-layered smokescreen to throw any potential tails firmly off their scent. The first was the airport hotel, the second the limousine.

The third was the complimentary passes to the hotel suites. The tickets they’d won when Balot hit her royal