Eros Ascending: Book 1 of Tales of the Velvet Comet by Mike Resnick

walked out the door, and Redwine fell into step behind him. The gymnasium was two decks down from the auxiliary office, and they arrived there a minute later.
    Redwine had never seen the facility before, and while it fell far short of the luxurious accommodations provided for the Resort's guests, it was nonetheless quite spacious and well-equipped. There were a number of advanced exercise machines, and numerous sets of weights, both of which he assumed were used almost exclusively by the prostitutes for keeping their bodies in shape. But there were also racketball courts, a raised wooden jogging track, a small swimming pool, a row of trampolines, and a heavily-padded free-fall room for those reckless enough to indulge in a little null-gravity wrestling.
    There were perhaps fifty people in the gym, and all but a handful were crowded around a ring that had been assembled in a large open area near the trampolines.
    Rasputin headed toward it, and Redwine followed him, intrigued at the notion of seeing the fabled DeWitt in action once again.
    When they reached ringside, an absolutely breathtaking redhead approached them.
    “You're Mr. Redwine, aren't you?” she said, extending a long, elegant hand.
    “Harry,” Redwine replied. “And you are...?”
    “Flaming Lorelei,” she said. “You can call me Lori. I've been wanting to meet you.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. You see, I'm one of the Resort's accountants...”
    “With no offense intended, I would have sworn you were one of the more popular prostitutes.”
    “I've retired from the ranks,” she replied. “Anyway, I was just wondering why you were here? I mean, if the Syndicate feels there have been any improprieties...”
    He shook his head. “The only reason I'm here is because I'm cheaper than an outside auditor. It's standard operating procedure.”
    “ That's a relief,” she said earnestly. “If there's anything I can explain to you, please feel free to ask.”
    “You'll be the first one I call for help,” said Redwine. “So far, though, everything seems to be in perfect order.”
    “By the way, I saw Charlie from the casino setting up a handbook in the mess hall,” interjected Rasputin.
    “You wouldn't happen to know the line, would you?”
    “Six-to-five, pick ‘em,” said Lori.
    “You're kidding!” exclaimed Redwine. “Gamble DeWitt was the champion of the whole damned Republic!”
    “I don't make the odds,” she said. “I just report them.”
    “Is an outsider allowed to lay a bet?” continued Redwine.
    “No—but you're not an outsider, are you?”
    “Fine. I once spent seven hundred credits to watch DeWitt fight. I'd like to put seven hundred on him to win.” He paused. “Maybe I can come out even on him yet. Where can I find this Charlie person?”
    “I'll cover it myself,” offered Rasputin.
    “You're not even going to give the house its percentage?” asked Lori with mock severity.
    “I can give him even money,” replied Rasputin.
    “Why should I give the casino six-to-five? Besides, Security chiefs don't make as much money as high-priced prostitutes. I've got to conserve my resources.”
    “Shall we grab some chairs?” suggested Redwine, noticing that most of the people had taken their seats, except for two young women who were playing racketball, oblivious to all the excitement being generated at ringside.
    “Why not?” agreed Rasputin. He turned to Lori.
    “Are you joining us, or will you be in Gamble's corner?”
    “Why should I be in Gamble's corner?” she asked.
    “You're his trainer, aren't you?” grinned Rasputin.
    “You're terrible!” she laughed. “Besides, the person hasn't been born yet who can train him.”
    Rasputin turned to Redwine. “You look confused, Harry.”
    “I assume it's a private joke,” replied Redwine.
    “The only joke is Gamble DeWitt,” said Lori, leading them around a number of parallel bars and vaulting horses and over to a trio of folded chairs, which they carried to ringside. They