Free George R.R. Martin - [Wild Cards 18] by Inside Straight Page B

role as the “bad” judge.
    Her stomach was in knots, which were tightening with every breath. On the drive back, she and her teammates kept glancing at each other, sizing each other up, making calculations: Who should go?
    She wasn’t worried so much about herself. What she really hated was having to make a choice.
    In the garage, Drummer Boy lingered by the Hummer and waved her over with a gesture from an upper arm. Uncertain, she went to him, wondering what he could possibly want with her.
    His voice hushed—and for such a huge, brusque man, he could make his voice surprisingly muted—he said, “You know who you’re picking?”
    Ah, that was what he wanted to talk about. “No.”
    “You worried?”
    “About what?”
    He gave a huff, like he thought she was being stupid. “You didn’t do squat during the challenge. That puts you in danger of getting kicked out, you know that?”
    She supposed it did. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
    “You ought to be making deals,” he said. “Trade votes. Make sure someone else gets it.”
    She couldn’t do that any more than she could have stopped the fire by digging a hole under the building. She shrugged. “I don’t even know who I’d pick.”
    “Bugsy,” he said. “The guy’s a prick.”
    “What do you get if I pick him?”
    “Don’t vote me off the next time we lose. It’s that simple.”
    Downs called from the house for them to hurry up.
    “I’ll think about it,” Ana said, and hurried away from the towering joker.
    She didn’t want to make deals. She didn’t want to vote anyone off. She shouldn’t even be here.
    Inside the house, in the no longer comfortable dining room, they gathered around the long table. Cameras watched them; all their expressions were somber, their shoulders tense. Hands clenched the backs of chairs, or tightened into fists.
    Downs handed them each a thin pack of cards. Shuffling through them, Ana found only seven cards. Each one bore the photo of a teammate.
    The judge explained. “Each of you will place the card of your choice face down on the table—”
    Suddenly, a dozen small, furry creatures appeared on the table, jumping over each other, squeaking, dancing. Ana gasped, and everyone took a step back.
    “What the hell!” Downs said.
    “Hamsters,” Wild Fox said, grinning like he was pleased with himself. His tail gave a flick.
    Next to him, Curveball huffed. “You would have to go pissing off the judge.”
    Murderous looks glared at him across the table, and the hamsters popped out of existence. Wild Fox glared back, his tail drooping.
    Downs sighed heavenward. “Let’s get this over with. Hearts, play your cards.”
    Curveball only considered her cards a moment before drawing one and setting it face down on the table. Jaw set, she glanced around the table, confident, meeting everyone’s gaze. At least she wasn’t going to let this cow her.
    So it went around the table. Drummer Boy and Hardhat quickly followed, then Wild Fox, Hive, and Gardener. Then they were all looking at Ana, waiting.
    Ana studied the cards in her hand, the smiling faces so unlike the ones she saw around her now. Her teammates were waiting to learn their fates, and she was delaying. But she couldn’t decide.
    She wondered what would happen if she put her own card on the table. After all, she never wanted to be here. She could leave just as quickly. Nobody would ever know that she’d discarded herself—unless all seven cards showed her face. That was a distinct possibility; as DB had said, she hadn’t done anything. If all seven cards showed her face, she’d have to explain to Roberto why she rigged her own downfall. So that wasn’t going to work.
    She couldn’t think rationally. Everyone here had strengths. Everyone here would be useful, given the right situation. If they ever had to look for buried treasure, Ana would save the day. She couldn’t use that criterion to judge. If it was a matter of picking who she didn’t want