Mardock Scramble

. Three of a kind. A strong enough hand in Hold’em.

Snap—the cowboy suddenly flung his cards to the table with a flourish.

At first Balot thought that he must have thrown his cards down out of frustration that he had just lost, but she was wrong.

Teeth bared, the cowboy laughed coarsely and declared his hand.

A

and A

—that was what was in the hole for him. Three of a kind, aces. The cowboy had won. This pushed the cowboy’s winnings to just shy of four thousand dollars.

Balot could no longer see the cowboy as anything other than the mechanic.

How are the Doctor and Oeufcoque planning on beating him? she wondered.

The next hand commenced. We’ll get him this time, she hoped.

Balot was dealt 6

and 3

. The dealer’s button was in front of the Doctor now.

Balot made her blind bet without a moment’s delay. Yet again the potbelly folded in the first round. The cowboy raised, and everyone else called, and the first round was over.

The flop was dealt to the center of the table and turned over one by one.

10

, 5

, and 4

.

It was hard for Balot to contain her excitement. She now had six-five-four-three, and all she needed was a two or a seven to make her straight—or she could use the 5

to aim for a flush.

–Fold.

The instruction came just as she was about to bet. Unbelievable. Oeufcoque’s order directly contradicted every natural impulse Balot felt. She closed her eyes and placed her cards down on the table.

–Why?

She spoke directly to Oeufcoque now. Folding at this point meant that all she could do for the rest of the hand was watch the other players as the hand progressed.

–I’ve worked it all out.

This was Oeufcoque’s answer.

–You’ve worked out who the mechanic is?

–I’ve worked out everything.

Balot frowned.

–You mean that the man who’s winning is the mechanic? she asked, as if to say I’ve worked that much out for myself.

But Oeufcoque’s answer couldn’t have been more different.

–The man to the far right and the man on the end at the left are partners in crime.

Balot was amazed. He was talking about the suit and the potbelly.

As they talked, snarcing to each other, play had progressed to the third round.

The turn card was J

. Balot and the potbelly were out, so it was between the other four now.

–Looks like clubs are a lucky suit for you.

Not that Balot was remotely interested. It was Oeufcoque who’d squashed her two chances for a flush, after all.

–More importantly, won’t you tell me how you know? Why do you say those two are the mechanics?

–I can tell by their odor and their actions.

–Even though they’re losing?

–There’s not much mileage in winning from the outset. The best way to make money is to let someone start winning, hook him, then take it all back and more. That’s what these three seem to think anyway.

–Three?

–The dealer is in on the action too.

Before she could stop herself, Balot had glanced at the dealer. He was just in the process of dealing the river card for the last round. It was A

. She didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved; the card meant that she would have had neither a straight nor a flush.

–So the cowboy isn’t a mechanic?

–No. He’s a rabbit in the headlights, just waiting to be mowed down. You just watch—he’s about to start losing heavily.

Oeufcoque’s blunt words seemed to put Balot in a slightly better mood, and she asked him another question.

–How can you tell when people are cheating?

–I’ll show you, but you have to act nonchalant. The suit is going to win this hand.

Balot looked at the suit. He had a poker face on—the term could have been coined for him.

The old gentleman raised, and the suit called and re-raised. The cowboy went red in the face and called, and the Doctor looked toward Balot as he called too.

“So, do you think you’re starting to get the hang of it? The important thing is to get used to the ambience.” The Doctor spoke to her as if he were some sort of great authority, and everyone else around the table listened.

Balot, though, was the only one who understood the subtext—what he really meant by this.

–Yes, I think I’m starting to get it. What about you, Uncle? I hope you win this hand!

She was growing into her role.

–The pile of chips are ordered in such a way to show what numbers he has.