I leaned against the glass of the vending machine, my eyes locked on a single nail file wrapped in plastic. According to its colorful label, it was made from a top of the line polymer, which sounded promising. I frowned at its price, however; it would cost me several hours of wages, plus the interest the purchase would add to my debt.

  Tau peered over my shoulder, crunching noisily on some cheese flavored chips. “Dude,” he said seriously. “You fuss over your manicure constantly. Just buy the thing already so we can go.”

  I looked down at my ragged nails, then back at the price tag. “It’s really expensive though, isn’t it?”

  Tau tossed another chip into his mouth. “Whatever you say, gay boy.”

  Nova looked up from checking her messages. “You’re gay?” she asked excitedly.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, maybe. I’m pretty sure he just calls me that to screw with me.”

  “Tau, knock it off,” Nova scolded, pinching his pointed ear.

  “Ow, hey! Fine, fine, I won’t call him that anymore, geez! Hazardous work environment!”

  I couldn’t help but grin as I watched him squirm in her punitive grip. I felt warm inside, somehow, like I was a part of something. “We’re off the clock,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, and eating into our poker time. I’m gonna leave without you if you take much longer.” Tau batted Nova’s hand away, then grabbed my palm and pressed it against the touch screen control for me. “There ya go, GB.”

  The machine whirred as it dispensed the product. I felt nauseous as ‘payment confirmed’ lit up its screen. “I was still deciding,” I grumbled as I bent down to retrieve my prize.

  “Good luck keeping them any kind of presentable,” Nova said. “You’re off light duty now, and the work is only gonna get harder.”

  I shrugged. “Basts have tougher keratin than terrans, so my nails should hold up to most things.”

  “Then how’d they get fucked up in the first place?” Tau asked suspiciously.

  I shrugged affably. “Don’t remember, same as the last time you asked.”

  “You’re getting better at that,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Lying.”

  Nova cleared her throat loudly. “Weren’t we in a hurry to get someplace?” she pointedly asked.

  Tau’s suspicions briefly turned towards Nova before he shrugged them away. “Do you remember how to play poker?” He asked.

  I did, in fact, know how to play; for the sake of my cover story, however, I let him re-explain the game as we walked to the rec room. I nodded along to his long-winded diatribe, but in my head I was back at home, in one of the rare good moments.

  My family’s estate was a large one, with numerous on-site staffers, from maids, gardeners, and cooks, to production assistants, set designers, and aesthetic coordinators. Ordinarily I had felt insecure about the number of people bustling about my home, pretending to be invisible as they did their vital work just out of view of the cameras. They were strangers who controlled my life and I was rarely allowed to speak a word to them.

  There was one night, one special evening each quarter when all that changed. The executive staff, those who kept order with an iron smile, would be called away to a meeting with their superiors in Port City, while the peons, as Harlyle would call them, were left to run the show. Specific instructions were given, of course, and by day the only signs that anything was amiss were the hidden smiles of the workers, the hopeful looks in their eyes. By night, once my parents had finished their duties and were drugged up and tucked in for the sleep stream, the game began.

  I would watch from the top of the staircase, peering through the slats of the railing as they crowded around whatever furniture could be used as a table, bumping shoulders as they struggled to keep their cards hidden. I learned the rules through observation, noting which card combinations would bring out jubilation, and which would provoke despair. I saw treasures change hands, hand-written favor cards, colorful bearer credits, and all manner of jewelry. I heard laughter and stories and unapproved music with explicit lyrics. More than anything else, I loved seeing our nameless, faceless staff come alive, each with a personality and life outside of their defined role.

  I always dreamt of boldly walking down those steps and asking to join in.

  “Hey. Hey! Have you heard a fuckin’ word I’ve said, G?” Tau demanded, breaking into my memory.

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  I dazedly nodded. “Uh, sure. I know how to play now, thanks.”

  Tau squinted at me briefly before keying the intercom.

  “Private party,” a voice came back.

  “Open up! It’s ya boy!” Tau insisted.

  A few ticks passed, and it became evident that Tau was not, in fact, his boy.

  Tau’s ears visibly drooped as Nova pushed him aside. “Open up. It’s Nova.”

  “I play with these guys like, all the time...” Tau whimpered.

  I patted him on the back as the door opened, and a hulking man in red welcomed Nova with a smile. “I’ll be your boy,” I whispered.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Tau snapped, pushing me away.

  I shook with mischievous giggles, delighting in his discomfort as we entered the rec room.

  The room itself was laid out similarly to the mess hall, but with additional tables in place of a serving line. The screen on its ceiling was lit up with chandeliers like a grand casino in a movie, and classical music played softly over hidden speakers. Groups of workers were gathered around tables, speaking in hushed voices as they calmly warred over piles of crystalline treasure.

  “See you boys tomorrow. Good luck!” Nova said with a wave before heading off to join one of the tables.

  Tau and I were left alone by the door with the guard and a woman whose green coveralls were unzipped down to her waist, a cropped leather jacket covering her torso. She wore a backpack over one shoulder, and held a tablet in her hand. Her wavy black hair hung down to her shoulders, framing her smug face.

  “I thought you said you weren’t coming back, Taumiel?” she asked coyly. “After you busted out three times in one night.”

  I stifled a laugh. “I thought you were an expert at this game,” I teased.

  “You know damn well Montresor cheats,” he said by way of defence. “Rook, this is Rollo. Rollo, this is my roommate.”

  “I’ve heard such nice things,” Rollo said in a way that almost wasn’t sarcastic.

  “Nice to formally meet you,” I said with an anxious smile.

  “No need to be nervous, Rookie!” she said. “I bet we’re going to get along swimmingly. See, I’m something of a thing finder; you need a thing, and I find a way to get it.”

  “What kind of things?” I asked.

  Rollo pulled her bag around to the front, and unzipped the main pocket to reveal stacks of vacuum-sealed bearer credits. “For a start, your chits.”

  “How much?” I asked warily. Medina had warned me that nothing was free, and I had a feeling Rollo’s services were included in that.

  “Five percent over,” she said coolly. “It’ll appear in your statement as a payment to Peerless Vending Services. Don’t worry, it’s all above board.”

  “And how does changing bearer credits back into credits work?” I asked cautiously.

  “Five percent under, and you’ll receive a peer to peer payment from Artie,” they explained.

  My ears perked up at the mention of my friend. “Why have Artie send them?”

  “The AI caretaker’s contract was voided on the last trip, and Frontier didn’t see room in the budget for hiring a new one. Ergo, nobody is babysitting Artie. Plus, he loves being helpful, just ask him!” She pulled a pack of red crystals from her bag. “So, kids... are you buying?”

  I chewed my lower lip thoughtfully, but Tau was already approving the transfer on his comm. I took a deep breath, and did the same.

  “Pleasure doing business!” Rollo chirped. “There are some open spots over at table four. Good luck, gentlemen!”

  The chits were heavier than I expected. I was acutely aware that losing them would mean digging myself deeper in debt... but winning could mean the opposite. Hope and fear clashed in my mind as I sat beside my roommate. We tore open the plastic, and laid out the stacks before us. The dealer passed two cards to each of us, and the game was in motion.

  I peeked carefully at the faces of my cards, thinking again to the poker games of my past. Had they all felt as much pressure, their very lives on the table to be won or lost by chance alone?

  I slid my chits into the center, my hand trembling. A pair of sevens waited beneath a protective palm. It was a respectable hand, good even. I’d seen it win before. I’d also watched men lose hundreds to a pair of eights.

  The dealer laid out three more cards, among them another seven. My pulse quickened, my odds increasing dramatically. I looked at the stoic faces of the others at the table, and realized that their conversation had died out the moment we sat down. I caught glimpses of stares, heard fragments of whispers. My mouth felt dry.

  I shakily pushed another stack of chits into the center, boldly raising the bet.

  The pile grew as they called one by one, until the last man raised again, tossing a purple chit into the middle as if it were nothing.

  I had exactly enough reds to cover the bet. I could go all in, risk it all for triple sevens yet again. If I lost, I’d owe money to Rollo, and who knew what kind of consequences there could be for that.

  “Are you in or out?” Someone asked sharply. Their faces were blurring together, and I couldn’t tell which the voice came from.

  I tried to calm my breathing as I pushed the last of my chits into the center. Some called, some folded. The dealer revealed a two of spades, and another round of betting started a side pot. The final card brought with it no major change in my odds.

  Finally it came time to reveal our hands. My heart thundered in my chest, and my swirling thoughts brought me back to the sight of her mangled face, the scent of flesh seared by plasma, the sensation of brain between my toes.

  I felt a hand on my arm, and I recoiled with a yelp.

  “Woah there,” Tau said gently. “You won, dude.”

  I nodded shakily. To my right was the remaining seven accompanied by a king. Three of a kind against two pairs. I should have felt relief, but I only felt sick. I quickly collected my chits and stood up. “Sorry,” I mumbled, then rushed away from the table, self conscious about the jingling of my pockets.

  I brushed past Rollo, and didn’t stop walking until I was back in my room. Only then did I let myself cry.