Winner Lose All--A Lando Calrissian Tale: Star Wars Page 2

“You can see it?”

  “Of course. Is something wrong?”

  Bink took a careful breath. Jydor had one Tchine. Just one. Every data list agreed on that.

  So if Jydor’s Tchine was here, what was on the table in the ballroom?

  “Bink?”

  “I’m coming down,” Bink said, pulling the optic line from the pinhole and packing it and the eyepiece away. “Meet me in the lounge. Any idea when Zerba will be free?”

  “There’s supposed to be a quarter-hour break every three hours,” Tavia said. “You’re not going in?”

  “Not yet,” Bink said as she started working her way back down through the opening she’d cut. “We may have just changed targets.”

  “No,” Zerba said firmly. “All Seven Sisters are accounted for.”

  “You’re sure?” Bink asked.

  “Three on Imperial Center,” Zerba said, lifting fingers. “One on Rendili, one on Corellia, one across town with that Devaronian noble—whatever her name is—”

  “Lady Carisica Vanq,” Tavia murmured.

  “Right—Lady Vanq,” Zerba said. “And one with Jydor. That’s seven.”

  “You’re sure there couldn’t be an eighth?” Bink asked hesitantly, wondering if the question would sound stupid.

  From the look on Zerba’s face, it apparently did. “The Sisters were discovered three hundred standard years ago,” he said. “They’ve been bought, sold, and traded among the elite for two hundred ninety-nine and a half of those years. Trust me, if someone had found an eighth, we’d have heard about it.”

  “Ditto if another collector had sold his to Jydor,” Tavia added. “Big sales and trades are covered by the upscale news feeds, and I’ve been watching all of them lately.” She looked at Zerba. “Which leaves just one possibility.”

  “Jydor’s built himself a fake,” Zerba said heavily. “Question is, which one is which?”

  Bink gazed off across the lounge, crowded with players rushing to get food and drink during the brief time-out. “He wouldn’t bring the fake down here,” she said, trying to work it through. “Someone might spot that.”

  “But then how would he make the switch at the end?” Zerba objected. “I assume he is planning to foist off the fake as the genuine article.”

  “The tournament’s going to last at least a couple more days,” Tavia pointed out. “I doubt he’ll leave the Tchine here overnight. It could be he’s got the real one there right now, and plans to switch it for the fake at the beginning of the final day.”

  “On the other hand, why not just bring in the fake at the beginning and be done with it?” Zerba countered. “It has to be good enough to pass eventual inspection, after all.” He gestured toward the ballroom. “Besides, the people in there are gamblers, not art experts. I doubt any of them has ever gotten closer to a Tchine than a holo on a data list.”

  Tavia stirred. “Except maybe Lando,” she murmured.

  “True,” Bink said, frowning as she thought back to the incident Tavia was referring to. How close had Lando been to the Tchine? She couldn’t remember.

  “Wait a second,” Zerba said. “You’re talking about the Lando who’s in the game? When did he see a Tchine?”

  “He was at Qarshan’s game a few years back when Nintellor made that famous bet where he put half his collection on the table,” Tavia said. “Nintellor’s Tchine was part of that bet.”

  “Nintellor won it back, but the Tchine was right there in the open,” Bink added. “I wonder if we should bring Lando in and see what he knows.”

  “Why?” Zerba asked. “I mean, why do we even care?”

  “Because it would be embarrassing for me to grab the wrong one,” Bink told him.

  Zerba’s eyes widened. “Whoa—back up, back up. What do you mean, grab the wrong one? We’re not going after the Tchine.”

  “We weren’t going after the Tchine,” Bink corrected. “But that was before we had an actual possible shot at it.”

  “You’re joking,” Zerba breathed, his eyes going even wider. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Look, Jydor is running some sort of scam,” Bink said. “If part of that scam requires him to leave his most precious art object unguarded, we owe it to the galaxy to teach him a proper lesson.”

  Zerba stared at her another moment, then turned to her sister. “Tavia?” he pleaded.

  Tavia sighed. “I’m on your side,” she said. “But I’ve seen her in this mood. She’s not going to back down.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who always says you should set your sights high,” Bink reminded her. “That’s all I’m doing.”

  “That isn’t what I meant,” Tavia said with that patient look Bink had seen on her so many times over the years. “But you know that. How do you suggest we start?”

  “Like I said: we bring in Lando.”

  “You’re insane,” Zerba insisted. “Both of you. Completely insane.”

  “Oh, come on, Zerba,” Bink said, mock-severely. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “Cowering behind my sense of self-preservation,” Zerba retorted. “Look, Bink, whatever game Jydor’s playing, it has to be for huge stakes. Can’t we please just grab something he won’t care about and get out of here?”

  “Let’s at least talk to Lando,” Bink said. “If we decide the Tchine’s too risky, we’ll go back to the original plan.”

  Zerba eyed her. “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  He sighed. “You’re the boss. But I still don’t like it.”

  “Noted,” Bink said. “Tav? You want to do the honors?”

  There was a warning hoot from the ballroom’s speakers. “Sure,” Tavia said. “Next break’s in three hours?”

  “Yes,” Zerba said, standing up. “Unless he loses before then.”

  “Then we’ll meet here in three hours,” Tavia said. She raised her eyebrows. “All of us.”

  “Sure,” Zerba said sourly. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He headed back toward the ballroom.

  “You really think Lando can help us?” Tavia asked.

  Bink shrugged. “He couldn’t hurt. He’s also smart and he knows gamblers better than we do.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Besides, you think he’s cute.”

  “You think he’s cute,” Tavia said stiffly. “Not me.”

  Bink suppressed a smile. “Right.”

  As far back as he could remember, Lando had always had an eye for the ladies. Even in the midst of a sabacc game, occasionally even when the other players were standing over him with drawn blasters, a passing beauty would still trip a switch in some back corner of his brain.

  Fortunately, most of the time those distractions didn’t rise to the level of potentially lethal. Nonetheless, the ladies passing through his life always caught his attention.

  Which was probably why, even while facing an uphill climb in a tournament with stakes as immensely high as this one, he still managed to spot the twins Bink and Tavia at the far end of the ballroom.

  Not that they looked like twins at the moment. Even at this distance he could see that they were using their usual tricks of makeup, hairstyle, and carefully positioned hats to create the illusion that their faces were merely similar instead of identical. There were times when Bink’s schemes relied heavily on that accident of nature; even when that wasn’t a part of her plan, there was no reason to advertise the fact that they were twins.

  Under normal circumstances, Lando would have known not to approach them or even acknowledge that he knew them. But the circumstances here were hardly normal. The women were undoubtedly up to something—he’d never heard of them going anywhere just for their health—and he had no intention of letting them derail the tournament. Not without at least knowing what they were planning. Certainly not while he still had a chance of winning.

  Which meant he was going to have to confront them. The question was how to do so without potentially ruining things for himself or them.

  The next break had
been called, and he was still working on the problem as he headed toward the bar with the rest of the players when one of the twins sidled up beside him and took his arm. “Hello, Lando,” she murmured in his ear. “Thirsty?”

  “Always,” Lando assured her. “You have a table?”

  “Right over there,” she said. “Bink’s already ordered your favorite cognac.”

  “Great,” Lando said. So it was Tavia hanging on to his arm, not Bink. Good thing mental bets didn’t count against the tournament’s single-elimination. “Lead the way.”

  They found Bink seated at a small corner table at the rear of the lounge along with a dour-faced human male. Bink did the introductions as Lando and Tavia sat down. “Lando; Zerba.” The crisp professionalism in her voice ended Lando’s last lingering hope that this was a social gathering. “Zerba; Lando.”

  “Zerba,” Lando said, nodding. The other wasn’t actually human, he realized now, but a near-human, probably a Balosar. “What’s up?”

  “Fasten your restraints,” Bink advised. “There’s a hell of a ride ahead.”

  Lando listened with a growing mixture of fascination and disbelief as she described her probe into Jydor’s display room and what she’d seen there. “So what do you think?” she asked when she’d finished.

  “I think Jydor’s angling for an early grave,” Lando said, looking around the lounge. “There are some big players here, and their patrons aren’t going to be happy if he tries to pass off a fake.”

  “I didn’t know gamblers had patrons,” Bink said.

  “They do on this one,” Lando told her. “None of them could have managed a ten-million-credit buy-in on their own. I’m guessing the six players already in the game have been hired and funded by individual collectors to play on their behalf.”

  “Makes sense,” Zerba commented. “It gives the collectors a better chance of winning than if they played themselves. It also masks their identities, which can be handy.”

  “Like sending a ringer to an auction,” Bink agreed. “So what’s Jydor’s game?”

  “No idea,” Lando said. “Unless one of the players is secretly working for Jydor. If he can win the Tchine back … but then why bother with a fake in the first place?”

  “Well, whatever the plan, the first thing we have to do is figure out which figurine is which,” Bink said. “Any chance we could get a little closer to the one down here? Preferably with a small scanner in hand?”

  Zerba gave a snort. “Sure,” he said. “All we need to do is win one of the wild-card seats. Then we’ll be right up there with it.”

  “Or win both seats,” Bink suggested. “You two are on different tracks, you know.”

  Lando eyed Zerba. “What’s your ranking?” he asked.

  “Don’t have one,” Zerba said. “Don’t need one, either.” He smiled tightly. “I cheat.”

  Lando swallowed. A lot of sabacc players cheated. Few of them admitted it. “Really.”

  “Really,” Zerba confirmed.

  “He’s quite good at it, too,” Bink added. “Sleight of hand, reshuffles, skifters—you name it, he can do it.”

  “I’ve got a couple of spare skifters, if you want one,” Zerba offered.

  “No, thanks,” Lando said. The last thing he wanted was to get caught with an adjustable card in his possession. “I trust you know what happens if you get caught.”

  “I do,” Zerba assured him. “And I won’t.”

  “Right.” Lando picked up his glass and drained the last of his cognac. “In that case, I guess things are on hold until we see if we can win one of the wild-card spots. Or both of them,” he added, inclining his head to Bink.

  “May I make a suggestion?” Tavia spoke up.

  Lando looked at her, feeling a mild flicker of surprise. She’d been so quiet since they sat down that he’d almost forgotten she was there. “Sure.”

  “You’ve seen a real Tchine close up,” she reminded Lando. “But none of the rest of us has. More important, we really don’t know how one shows up on a scan.”

  “Isn’t that data on file?” Lando asked.

  “Some of it is,” Tavia said. “But not all of it. Probably deliberately.”

  “So that no one knows all of the readings that would have to be faked to make a copy,” Lando said, nodding. “Makes sense.”

  “So we don’t have complete sensor data,” Zerba said. “So what?”

  “So there’s another Tchine right across town,” Tavia said. “Lady Carisica Vanq’s. If we could persuade her to let us take some readings, we’d have a head start on identifying the fake.”

  “I’m guessing that’ll take a lot of persuasion,” Lando murmured.

  “Maybe not,” Bink said thoughtfully. “Depends on how much security she has.”

  Tavia gave her sister a look of strained patience. “Bink—”

  She broke off as the warning hoot sounded. “You two sort it out,” Lando said, standing up. “Zerba and I need to get back to the tables.”

  “How soon before you find out if you’ve made it to the main game?” Bink asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lando said, running a quick calculation. “Not before tonight, though.”

  “Probably not until sometime tomorrow,” Zerba said. “Depending on how late in the day the session runs, Jydor may postpone the beginning of the big game until the day after that.”

  “So you’ve got until then to break into Lady Vanq’s house,” Lando concluded. “Have fun.”

  He headed back toward the ballroom, wondering if there was any reason for him not to simply turn around and walk out of the casino. If he was going through all this for a fake …

  He smiled tightly. No, of course he was going to keep going. There were a lot of big players here, and if he could help expose a scam before one of them was taken in, he would have bought himself a fistful of goodwill and possible future favors. In his line of business, both could mean the difference between success and failure.

  Sometimes even between life and death.

  “Thank you,” Tavia said quietly as she and Bink reached the end of the long hedge-lined walkway of Lady Carisica Vanq’s estate and came within sight of the main house. “I appreciate you trying it this way first.”

  “You’re welcome,” Bink said.

  Tavia winced. Bink was trying hard to make it sound like she meant it, but Tavia knew her sister’s moods and body language, and she could tell that Bink thought this was a waste of time. Worse, she probably thought that asking politely and straightforwardly for a scan would alert Lady Vanq to the more clandestine approach Bink obviously expected they would eventually have to use.

  On one level, Tavia had to agree. Still, it seemed only right to try the polite approach first.

  They reached the door, and Tavia rang the chime.

  There was a moment’s pause, and then the door swung ponderously open to reveal an LOM protocol droid. “Yes?” it asked stiffly.

  “Lady Pounceable and Lady Michelle to see Lady Vanq,” Bink said in that condescending, high-snoot-value voice she’d spent years perfecting.

  “Lady Vanq is not at home,” the droid said.

  “Do you expect her back soon?” Bink asked.

  “I cannot say,” the droid said. “She has gone on a long journey.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Tavia saw Bink cock her head slightly. Probably wondering whether they should give the LOM a high-power jolt into its motivator from her concealed sparker and simply walk in right now.

  Fortunately, Bink was smarter than that. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll call another time.”

  “Yes,” the droid said. Taking a step back, it closed the door.

  “Now what?” Tavia asked. Her sister, she noted, was giving the house and windows a casually penetrating visual examination. “Plan B?”

  “Actually, it was always Plan A,” Bink said. She finished her survey and turned away from the house. “Let’s get back to the casino.”

  “We’re not hitt
ing it tonight, are we?”

  “No,” Bink assured her. “First I need to dig up everything we can on the old—what is she?”

  Tavia suppressed a sigh. For Bink, objects and targets were everything. People were just what you had to deal with along the way. “Devaronian.”

  “Right—the old Devaronian,” Bink said. “We’ll want her house schematics, her alarm setup, and any servant or droid information we can get. We’ll work out a plan tonight and go in tomorrow.”

  Tavia thought back on the timing Lando and Zerba had laid out. “I hope that won’t be too late,” she warned. “If the wild-card rounds finish tonight, the main game will begin tomorrow.”

  “Not a chance,” Bink said flatly. “With every game the field’s average talent goes up a notch, which means the last few games will be long and brutal. No, the final table isn’t going to start until the day after tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “I suppose,” Tavia murmured. “I wonder if Zerba or Lando will make it through.”

  “That’s their problem.” Bink nodded back over her shoulder at the house. “This is ours. Come on—we’ve got work to do.”

  Lando had known going in that his chances of making it all the way to the big table were extremely slim. There were a lot of players who’d swarmed in for the tournament, and many of them were as good as or better than he was.

  But for once, Lady Luck seemed to be solidly at his side. Often the better players drew positions where they were competing at other tables and more often than not ended up taking one another out. On the occasions when he faced someone whose skills were superior to his own, the cards invariably ran in Lando’s favor.

  In a normal tournament, that kind of luck wouldn’t gain him more than a temporary reprieve. In the long run, the whims of fortune would even out, and the better player would eventually emerge triumphant. But Jydor had set up the wild-card games to be single-elimination, which meant Lando only had to hold off his equals and betters for a single game each.

  As the afternoon turned to evening and then to night, he slowly but steadily made his way from the edge of the ballroom inward toward the elevated table. By the time the games were called for the night, he was more than halfway toward his goal. Exhausted but with a deep satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long time, he watched as the bodyguards formed their protective curtain around Jydor and the Tchine and they all marched from the ballroom and disappeared into the private turbolifts.