Free Back From the Dead by Rolf Nelson Page A

pointedly at Trembler. “All in with a side pot, add money, or fold?”
    “No. No . You can’t force me out like this. You CAN’T! I need the whole pot!”
    “Shut up,” says Grim Guy. “You know the rules.”
    “You CAN’T!”
    “If you cannot add money to match, you’re only in the main pot,” the dealer says calmly.
    Trembler’s desperate now. He looks around at the other players and the crowd, seeking a way out. “But … but … how … How about my ship?”
    The crowd hushes. Both Helton and Grim Guy study him. “Your ship?” Helton asks flatly.
    Trembler sounds scared at first, but gradually convinces himself. “Yes. Yes . I have a starship at the port over in Adelaide. I… I’ll put the title in the pot to match you. It’s worth far more than that, and–” He cuts himself off, fearing he’ll scare them into refusing. Grim Guy and Helton look at each other. Then at Trembler. Then at the pot and side pot. “Hey, it’s not that unheard of,” Trembler protests. “Some famous ships have been won in card games!”
    “Title?” Grim Guy asks. Trembler pats his vest pocket. The crowd murmurs in surprise. But Helton is suspicious.
    “Verify it before accepting?” he asks.
    Trembler produces a slim packet of fancy paper with a credit-card-sized sheet of plastic bonded into one corner. The dealer brings out a handheld scanner unit. He scans Trembler’s face and hand and the smart card in the corner of the title. The scanner beeps, and its readout displays: “100-percent ownership of the twenty-thousand-ton starship Tajemnica verified.”
    The dealer nods to the other players; the ship is Trembler’s to bet. “Are you pledging this ship, the, uh, Tah-JEM-ni-ka as collateral?”
    “It’s TA-zhem-NEETZ-ah ”
    “Ah, okay. You pledge the, er, Taj– … ah this ship, for the bets on the table for this hand, of your own free will, and promise transfer of ownership to the winner, effective immediately, if you do not win fairly?”
    “I do.”
    “Do both of you accept this asset title as a matching bet, going to the winner of this hand?”
    Helton nods. “Yup.”
    “I…” Grim Guy pauses, a long, tense pause. “Yes.”
    The dealer nods and places the title on top of the pot on the table. Helton pushes in enough to match Grim Guy’s remaining chips. Grim Guy goes all in.
    “It’s a contract,” the dealer says. “All bets matched and called.” The players stare at each other. “Show your cards, please, gentlemen.”
    Trembler lays down his four cards. A full house, using the nine of clubs in the center to match his nine of hearts, with a trio of fours. The crowd gasps and exclaims.
    Grim Guy smiles. He puts down his cards. Also a full house. The nine of clubs matches his nine of spades, and he has a trio of jacks. Trembler shakes and twitches more spasmodically, sweat breaking out on his brow, but he doesn’t say a word, as everyone now stares at Helton.
    Helton holds his hand silently for a moment, looking at the pot. Then, ever so slowly, he tosses them down, one at a time. Two of spades. Two of hearts. Two of clubs. Two of diamonds. Four of a kind, beating two full houses. The crowd explodes in cheers and congratulations.
    Grim Guy just grows grimmer, and Trembler seems to faint dead away. The Dealer pushes the pile of chips towards Helton, who sits still, staring at his winnings with a growing smile.

TAJEMNICA
    Spaceport
    A graceful, midsized, low-orbital ship knifes through the airspace high above a city, the modest spaceport of Adelaide. A wide and tan plain stretches to low mountains, the blue sky above has scattered clouds, and an unassuming city sprawls away to one side of the port. The fifty-passenger, sharply streamlined flier descends towards the landing field, a simple and dusty facility with six evenly spaced concourses radiating out from a large central building. Along each concourse are pairs of landing pads, small ones close to the center, larger ones further out, and a