by T. Mike McCurley
The noise in the casino was almost overwhelming, especially to a genebooster with heightened senses. The thick smells of cigarette smoke, sweat, and greed seemed to hang in the air, and the flashing lights on the myriad machines were dazzling. In the background, music was playing, accompanied by the plaintive wails of a singer performing a Karaoke rendition of "Friends in Low Places", by Garth Brooks. The appreciative applause and whistles from the assembled patrons, despite the mangling of the song, kept the singer going.
Allan Carruthers grinned and pulled at the handle of the slot machine he was working. One more decent hit and he would leave with enough money to pay off his home for good. Already he had been through seven other casinos this week, slowly building his bankroll with the assistance of his probability-altering abilities. He had stayed as cautious as he could throughout the entire operation, never accumulating too much, and never winning anything major. It would not do to be caught 'adjusting the odds' in Las Vegas. He had only realized his powers a little less than a month ago, just a fluke happenstance while drawing cards from a deck.
It had seemed odd somehow for him to be a genebooster. A life filled with drudgery and days of the same boring routine had convinced him that he would live hislife in the same rut as all his friends and co-workers. Then, one boring Saturday, waiting for the game, he had begun playing with the cards. Drawing one after another in a string; playing at some kind of ESP test. He knew he would never guess the card drawn, and had decided to guess it before it was drawn. Yeah, like that'll work, he had said, laughing at himself.
But it had. So long as he actively concentrated on the card he wished to draw, it came up. He had called to his wife, jokingly telling her that he could predict the fall of the cards as she drew them, and the results had been abysmal. Not a single card came out right. Carruthers had experimented further, and determined that he needed to actually touch the cards to employ his ability. The thoughts of playing no-limit poker had flown out the window. Slot machines, though, were accessible with just a grip on the handle. A master plan began to form in his mind, one in which he and his family would never be in debt again.
He had been in Bally's for nearly three hours before he cooked the machine, making it seem all the while as if he were yet another of the countless men and women who dropped their savings into the machines every day and hoped for fate to smile on them. The flyer in his pocket, with the advertisement for Bally's emphasizing their new rewards program for players and the higher jackpots, had made this his last stop. He had needed to build a sizable sum before making a run on this casino. Even then, caution had been his watchword. He had played under the watchful eyes of literally hundreds of cameras, and not once had anyone caught on to his actions.
Dragging the handle again and again, Carruthers slipped into a trancelike state. The spinning wheels seemed almost hypnotic as he watched them rotate. Spin. Stop. Spin. Stop. Spin. The rhythm became as mechanical to Carruthers as it was to the machine. Twelve hundred dollars had been slipped into the game, a hundred at a time, and he played each one for the maximum allowance of three five-dollar credits. He kept his thoughts under control as he allowed the casino to eat away at his bankroll, biding his time and happily accepting the tiny amounts the machine paid out on its own.
Carruthers pulled the handle again, watching the credit reading drop to seventeen. Now, he thought. For Judy and the kids, make it now. He exerted his will, nostrils flaring with sudden strain. The first wheel stopped on a triple-seven icon, as did the second. Carruthers hissed angrily between his teeth, knowing he had pushed it too far. The thoughts of paying the mortgage and getting the family out of debt had been enough to send his newfound powers into overdrive, and he knew without waiting for the wheels to complete their spin what the results would be.
A siren set atop the slot machine whooped into life with an ear-splitting shriek, and a red light began to spin to draw attention to the jackpot. Angry at himself for letting it go so far, Carruthers nonetheless pasted a grin on his face and jumped for joy, as though he were still that nameless drone who had simply been luckier than the rest. He pumped his fist in the air and laughed aloud as the machine continued to celebrate his victory for him. Faces peered around the frames of nearby machines, eyeing Carruthers with a mixture of joy and envy as they recognized this man as having the luck they did not. Calls of congratulation rang out, audible even above the siren.
Cutting a path through the crowd that was rapidly gathering to observe the winner, a trio of casino employees in matching black suits worked their way to his side to verify the jackpot. Carruthers waved happily at their approach, still dancing and celebrating.
"I won!" he crowed as they neared him. "I hit the jackpot!"
"Yes, sir," said one of the three men, scratching at his upper lip as he examined the face of the machine. "It looks like you did it!" He spoke into a radio, identifying the particular slot machine to the security staff, and inserted a key into the side. A moment later, the siren fell silent.
Carruthers allowed himself to relax a bit. Although he would have to avoid Bally's for a while, there were still other casinos. It was best not to win too often in any one place in Vegas. He settled down for a moment as they began the task of logging the slot machine serial numbers. One of the men asked to see some identification and Carruthers happily handed over his drivers' license. The employee began filling out a form for Carruthers to take to the cashier, writing the jackpot amount on the page. Fifty thousand credits. At five dollars each, that would be more than enough to pay off the mortgage and all the other debts, plus leave a little for a fresh start.
"You've been here before," declared the third in a frigid tone. Carruthers turned to look into eyes as dead as any he had ever seen. They seemed to hold absolutely no emotion, and it was unnerving to look into them for any length of time. Carruthers arched an eyebrow slightly as if confused.
"Well, yeah," he said, opening his hands wide and speaking very slowly, in the manner he might address a third-grade student. "I come here about once a week."
"You live around here, then?"
"Yeah. Twenty miles out, in the suburbs. Why?"
"No reason. Just making conversation," the employee assured him, face twisting in what could have been considered a smile if the eyes did not still look dead.
"Mister Carruthers, on behalf of Bally Entertainment, congratulations," said the second employee, returning the license and shaking Carruthers' hand. He passed over the cash ticket as well. "You can take this to the cashier and they will cash you out. I need you to spin the wheels one more time to play this off, though."
Carruthers nodded and, still smiling, gripped the handle and pulled. He looked at the machine as the wheels spun, silently willing them to come up with a losing pattern. As they clicked into place, he shook his head and looked once more at the casino crew.
"I was kind of hoping to hit something big again," he joked.
"No, you weren't," said the man with dead eyes, who had turned away before the spin and was now standing with his back to the machine. "You were hoping to get the results you did. Quite clearly, you were thinking of a double-bar, a seven, and a blank space."
All eyes turned to the machine to see the pattern exactly as the employee had described it. The sudden silence of the patrons in the area seemed more horrific than had all the noise from before. No one dared move as the dead-eyed man raised a hand and made a flicking motion in his direction. From several corners came uniformed security officers with holstered pistols and stun batons held openly in their hands.
"Now then, Mister Carruthers, you can come to the office with us, or you can be dragged there unconscious," advised the first man, never looking up from his paperwork.
"We find the presence of geneboosters to be a valuable one, but not when they are stealing from us," added the second, reaching over to recover the cash ticket. His face was twisted into a grimace of anger and raw hate.
"What the hell?" Carruthers asked, trying in vain to grab the ticket as it vanished from his hand. The sudden movement on his part was a drastic error. His body jerked reflexively as the first stun baton arced in under his ribs on the left side. Two more batons connected, blasting him with raw electricity and making his muscles contract violently. He collapsed to the floor and twitched madly as the security staff hit him several more times for good measure before bodily carrying him through the throngs of terrified patrons and through the doors into the back of the building. The dead-eyed man smiled at the norms who would never understand why a casino staff would hire a telepath. When he spoke, his voice was an icy challenge rather than a friendly greeting.
"Good luck," he said.
Le
Fin