Mardock Scramble

The suit was the last to raise, and he revealed his hand first.

K

and 2

. Two pairs, kings over deuces. There was no bluffing involved with this hand. Had either the turn or the river card revealed a king or a deuce, he would have had a nearly unbeatable full house.

“Whoa,” the cowboy exclaimed. He threw his cards down, revealing his hand.

K

and 8

. The same hand—two pairs—but his was higher. The cowboy reached out and dragged the pot toward himself. Like a dog at dinnertime.

The dealer was just starting to collect all the cards when the Doctor tapped Balot on her shoulder.

“So, what sort of hand did you have, then?” he asked her, loudly.

An unthinkable question under normal circumstances. And it was the Doctor himself who had impressed upon her in training that there was nothing that gave your opponents the upper hand more than revealing your cards unnecessarily—they’d learn to read you like a book. Yet here the Doctor was, brushing Balot’s hand away as she tried to protect the cards from his reach. He flipped them both over for all to see.

“Ah, I see what you were doing. Going for the straight, eh? A little too ambitious with a hand like this, though. You really should have folded at the start, you know.”

He didn’t really need to tell her this, of course, and she shrank up into a ball.

On the other side of the table the cowboy burst out laughing. His mood couldn’t have been better.

Nor did the other players make a secret of the fact that they were digesting Balot’s hand and its implications. The full extent of her inexperience and lack of skill was now clear for all to see.

“You know, it’s a real shame—if only I’d been as bold as you…” the Doctor continued, flipping over his own hand just before the dealer got to it.

2

and 2

. Three of a kind! The cowboy’s eyes widened, and the other players looked on, the scene clearly making a great impression on them.

Rock—the name given to the type of player who bets prudently, even on a strong hand. In this instance, the description fit the Doctor perfectly. But wasn’t it the Doctor himself who had taught her that excessive caution could be just as much a cause of defeat as recklessness? The other players surely now saw him as a godsend of an opponent, just like Balot, but for entirely different reasons. Balot was about to forget herself and say something to him, but then the Doctor winked. Quickly and discreetly, so that no one else would have noticed. Balot understood that his actions weren’t entirely without cause.

Balot made a sulky face as they proceeded on to the next game.

Part of her was acting, of course, on cue. But there was another part of her that really was sulking. Oeufcoque and the Doctor were still aiming to win—they just hadn’t shared any information with her as to how they planned to go about doing so.

?

The card shoe containing a new deck was brought forward, and the second hand had begun.

Balot’s hand was Q

and 8

.

The dealer’s button had moved round, and the Doctor was now the blind better.

The first bet was ten dollars. Balot quickly raised, as she had to, and the calls went round the table.

The cowboy seemed to have acquired a taste for winning—he was the only one to raise, anyway—and the potbelly folded from the outset, just as in the previous hand. The calls finished, and the three flop cards were turned over.

5

, 8

, Q

. There was another round of calling and raising, and the suit, seemingly tired out by being pushed to the wire on the previous hand, folded.

They moved into the third round of betting, and the turn card was revealed.

It was K

. Balot’s heart skipped a beat. She realized that she had the chance of making a club flush, even if she might be hoping against hope at this late stage in the game.

Even if she didn’t make it, she would still be left with two pairs, queens over eights. She thought about the eight hundred she had just lost and realized that this was her chance to turn things around.

–Fold.

Such was the instruction she eventually received, but only after the old gentleman raised after her call and the cowboy’s raise… Disappointed, Balot placed her cards down. The writing in the palm of her hand subsided, and the active players finished their calls, moving the hand on to the final round.

The fifth card, the river, was A

. Balot was thrown into deep confusion.

The flush was now complete. Including the money she’d lost on this hand, she was now down by well over a thousand dollars. The only explanation she could think of was that she was somehow supposed to be playing in a nonsensical manner.

And, sure enough, that was the case.

The Doctor ended up folding in the final round, leaving the cowboy and the old gentleman to fight it out.

The old gentleman raised, and the cowboy saw and raised him. This process repeated a number of times.

The cowboy was now well into the game, totally absorbed, passionate.

The old man, on the other hand, remained composed, lining up his chips in an orderly fashion.

The betting came to a close. Showdown, and the old gentleman led by revealing K

and K