picture,” said Penelope, who was close to tears now. “I wasn't trying to cheat, honest I wasn't."
"I know you weren't,” said the Mouse soothingly.
"You're not mad at me?"
"How could I ever get mad at my partner?” said the Mouse, forcing a smile to her lips to mask her eagerness. “I wonder...” she said, allowing her voice to trail off.
"About what?"
"Was it just because you wanted to see this picture that you knew what the card would be, or could you do it again?"
"Promise you won't get mad if I tell you?"
"Cross my heart."
"The next card is a picture of a man dressed in black, with a black and red cloak."
"Can you see what value the card is?"
"Value?"
"Its number and suit."
"It's the king of spades."
The Mouse turned over the card. It was the king of spades, with a rather frightening representation of Count Dracula staring out at her.
"Do you know what's in my hand?” asked the Mouse.
Penelope described the holographs, then, with far less interest, identified the accompanying values and suits.
"Very good,” said the Mouse.
"Will you still play cards with me, now that you know?” asked Penelope. “I can try to forget what they are when we're playing."
"I don't want you to forget a thing,” said the Mouse.
"But if I don't, I'll win most of the time."
"Why not all the time?” asked the Mouse curiously. “Can't you choose a future in which you always get the best cards?"
The little girl shook her head. “In some of the futures, you don't shuffle them right. Besides, that would be cheating."
The Mouse considered this information for a moment, then shrugged. “What the hell—we don't want to win every hand anyway. It would just frighten people off."
"We?” repeated Penelope. “I thought I was playing against you."
The Mouse shook her head impatiently. “We're through with that game."
"But you promised!” said Penelope, suddenly on the verge of tears again.
"We have a more important game to play,” said the Mouse.
"What game?"
"A game in which we can be partners instead of opponents.” The Mouse paused. “And you'll get to give me secret signals, too, just the way we talked about before."
"Really?” asked Penelope, her enthusiasm returning.
"Really."
"But won't we be cheating someone else? If I help you, I mean?"
"We won't be cheating anyone who doesn't deserve it,” answered the Mouse. “And we're stuck here on Last Chance until Merlin shows up or I can put together enough money to buy a ship."
"Why can't we just tell the Forever Kid to take us with him?” asked Penelope.
"Because he doesn't do favors—he sells them. And I haven't got enough money to hire him for a second week."
"You're sure it's all right?” persisted Penelope, a worried expression on her face.
"I'm not only sure it's all right,” answered the Mouse. “I'm sure it's the only way we're ever going to get off this dirtball.” She paused, then added: “And it's not safe for us to stay on any one planet for more than a few days; too many people want to take you away from me."
"I know,” said Penelope glumly. “I keep trying to choose a future in which they all forget about me, but I don't know how."
"Just pick one in which we win lots of money at End of the Line's card table."
"I'll try,” promised the girl.
"All right,” said the Mouse. “Let's spend the next couple of hours making sure you know the rules. First comes a pair, then two pair, then three of a kind, then..."
[Back to Table of Contents]
11.
The End of the Line was crowded. Its lights, glowing circular globes floating weightlessly near the ceiling, shone down on traders, prospectors, adventurers, bounty hunters, whores, gamblers, all the flotsam and jetsom of the Inner Frontier, as they gathered around the burnished chrome bar and the gaming tables. Here and there an occasional alien mingled with the mass of humanity, testing its luck at the tables, imbibing one of the special fluids that the Iceman supplied to his
"I know you weren't,” said the Mouse soothingly.
"You're not mad at me?"
"How could I ever get mad at my partner?” said the Mouse, forcing a smile to her lips to mask her eagerness. “I wonder...” she said, allowing her voice to trail off.
"About what?"
"Was it just because you wanted to see this picture that you knew what the card would be, or could you do it again?"
"Promise you won't get mad if I tell you?"
"Cross my heart."
"The next card is a picture of a man dressed in black, with a black and red cloak."
"Can you see what value the card is?"
"Value?"
"Its number and suit."
"It's the king of spades."
The Mouse turned over the card. It was the king of spades, with a rather frightening representation of Count Dracula staring out at her.
"Do you know what's in my hand?” asked the Mouse.
Penelope described the holographs, then, with far less interest, identified the accompanying values and suits.
"Very good,” said the Mouse.
"Will you still play cards with me, now that you know?” asked Penelope. “I can try to forget what they are when we're playing."
"I don't want you to forget a thing,” said the Mouse.
"But if I don't, I'll win most of the time."
"Why not all the time?” asked the Mouse curiously. “Can't you choose a future in which you always get the best cards?"
The little girl shook her head. “In some of the futures, you don't shuffle them right. Besides, that would be cheating."
The Mouse considered this information for a moment, then shrugged. “What the hell—we don't want to win every hand anyway. It would just frighten people off."
"We?” repeated Penelope. “I thought I was playing against you."
The Mouse shook her head impatiently. “We're through with that game."
"But you promised!” said Penelope, suddenly on the verge of tears again.
"We have a more important game to play,” said the Mouse.
"What game?"
"A game in which we can be partners instead of opponents.” The Mouse paused. “And you'll get to give me secret signals, too, just the way we talked about before."
"Really?” asked Penelope, her enthusiasm returning.
"Really."
"But won't we be cheating someone else? If I help you, I mean?"
"We won't be cheating anyone who doesn't deserve it,” answered the Mouse. “And we're stuck here on Last Chance until Merlin shows up or I can put together enough money to buy a ship."
"Why can't we just tell the Forever Kid to take us with him?” asked Penelope.
"Because he doesn't do favors—he sells them. And I haven't got enough money to hire him for a second week."
"You're sure it's all right?” persisted Penelope, a worried expression on her face.
"I'm not only sure it's all right,” answered the Mouse. “I'm sure it's the only way we're ever going to get off this dirtball.” She paused, then added: “And it's not safe for us to stay on any one planet for more than a few days; too many people want to take you away from me."
"I know,” said Penelope glumly. “I keep trying to choose a future in which they all forget about me, but I don't know how."
"Just pick one in which we win lots of money at End of the Line's card table."
"I'll try,” promised the girl.
"All right,” said the Mouse. “Let's spend the next couple of hours making sure you know the rules. First comes a pair, then two pair, then three of a kind, then..."
[Back to Table of Contents]
11.
The End of the Line was crowded. Its lights, glowing circular globes floating weightlessly near the ceiling, shone down on traders, prospectors, adventurers, bounty hunters, whores, gamblers, all the flotsam and jetsom of the Inner Frontier, as they gathered around the burnished chrome bar and the gaming tables. Here and there an occasional alien mingled with the mass of humanity, testing its luck at the tables, imbibing one of the special fluids that the Iceman supplied to his
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