Playing at Grown ups

A Pink Dormouse Production

Chapter Nine

Avon

"The surroundings are even bleaker than I remembered." Snowdrifts as far as the eye could see isolated the thick stone walls of the castellated buildings they were approaching. The hired cruiser was ostentatious enough not to be associated with Dariel’s personal fleet of understated craft nor with any of the SCorps’ vessels and the pilot was normally reserved for offworld business.

"You’ve been here before?"

"I watched the advid for this place when we- about three years ago. As a bolt-hole, the facilities would have been most enjoyable but I would have required an income much greater than I was prepared to rely upon."

"Just think how quickly you would’ve got bored with being waited on hand and foot. No one to argue with either. What’s that?" The building Vila had spotted stood a little way off from the main complex on higher ground. Its style was much the same as the other buildings but one wall had fallen in and a thick layer of moss covered the others.

"A folly, I expect. The buildings are not so old as they look; this continent has a small nomadic population but the buildings in their winter settlements bear no relation to these."

"I’d like it a lot better without all that snow."

Avon blocked out Vila’s comments on the scenery and concentrated on thinking through the plan. Their identity documentation was indistinguishable from the real thing and the expense account Dariel had provided was certainly generous but could they really escape being recognised? More to the point, could he escape being recognised? Vila would be in the background observing, while Avon would be interacting with the staff and customers and therefore the more visible of the two. Avon didn’t feel like the same person he had been a year ago and, if the dark emotions lurking at the back of his memory were real, he was nothing like the man he had become by the time of his Illness some months later. Maybe projecting a different set of feelings would be enough to deter anyone who thought they knew him from the old days. And, of course, he had Vila to back him up. The former thief would be watching people even more closely than usual and he could generally be relied upon to spot trouble long before it spotted him. So long as he didn’t get distracted of course...

Aware of being scrutinised, Vila tore his eyes from the viewscreen.

"What’s up?"

"Nothing: just thinking."

"Not good for you, you know"

"Shut up, Vila."

Vila

He settled himself between two rows of gaming machines, ensuring he had a good view of the dice table Avon had joined. Vila was pleased to note that the two brandies he had foisted on his partner had had the desired effect: he was less obviously nervous and an uninformed spectator was unlikely to pick up on the snub-nosed pistol in one thigh boot or the flick knife in the other.

Looks like Dariel’s done him a world of good as well: he’s fretting less, which can only be a good thing. S’pose if he must play his games with people who actually do him damage then the big guy’s a better bet than most. Shame he’s also just the type for Avon to get all irrational and obsessive over too... Now is that one there rolling properly? Yeah, looks like it. Vila’s job was made easier by Avon attracting plenty of the right sort of attention- the majority of the staff and punters being too distracted by the midnight blue velvet trousers and tunic, and the silver-buckled boots to realise that the newcomer had an ever-present human shadow. Eyeliner’s a nice touch, might’ve suggested it meself if he hadn’t already thought of it.

After half an hour or so Avon left the game and strolled over to place three tokens into one of the gaming machines.

"Anything to report?" He activated the mechanism for the first game.

"All above board so far. How’s our money?"

"We’re slightly ahead right now- I lost a few thousand earlier but I made it up over there."

"Good. Let’s call this a night while I’m still awake enough to make some serious money- meet me at the viewing area by the poker tables."

"Okay, let me see. First table: tourist, pro, tourist, pro, tourist but good- forget that one; next table: tourist, pro pretending to be a tourist-"

"How can you tell?"

"Practice- you get the hang of these things pretty quick when your profits depend on it. Where was I? ’Nother pro, tourist -" He spotted something in the man’s hand that he had to have, either by winning it or stealing it. "I’ll take that table."

"With two professional gamblers on it?"

"I can handle it. You joinin’ me?"

"I thought I should investigate the pool room, play a few games for money."

"Go ahead- I’ll join you later. An’ no startin’ fights- I don’t want me game interrupted to bail you out."

"I wouldn’t dream of such a thing." Avon prowled off, Vila grinned after him.

Flash bastard. Still he plays pool well enough- thinks about it too much but then he wasn’t born with a cue in his hand like Marianne... hate to think how long she’s been playin’ big money games.

Avon

The poolroom was quieter than the main casino, which he found reassuring: he had been uncertain how much longer he could have coped with the close proximity of so many strangers. He shifted his weight slightly and felt the weight of the Derringer that Dariel had given him against his leg: he hoped not to need it but it was good to have in any case.

He leaned against a wall and studied the various games in progress, trying to get a feel for both the players and the run of the tables. No table seemed as to play true as he had become used to at the Sprocket and Piston but then none looked as bad as the one he had played on in the Pear Tree. The real pool-hustlers seemed to be gathered around the two tables at the far end; he decided to give them the opportunity to come and find him later. The third table from the door had some reasonably good amateurs playing on it and the one next to it looked even more promising. He collected a cue then slapped some tokens down on the table he had selected.

"I take it the winner stays on?"

The players and onlookers concurred. This was going to be interesting...

He eyed the balls carefully; the obvious shot would leave the black over the centre pocket with his opponent unlikely to sink all three remaining reds at her next visit to the table. On the other hand... He paused to calculate the angle then slammed the black off the cushion above one centre pocket so it rocketed into the other.

"Impressive. I’ll rack up for the decider then, shall I?" The petite strawberry blonde wore a floor-length black lace dress with a red velvet bodice, which just about rendered it respectable, although there was nearly as much material in her elbow length gloves. The toes on her ankle boots were nearly as pointed as the heels but neither seemed to impede her game in any way.

"Certainly. Excuse me while I have a word with someone." Avon crossed the room to the doorway. "Bored with poker already, Vila?"

"Course not. Just popped over to let you know I’ll be in the cocktail lounge later- me second cousin Lyzbet’s working as a hostess here and we’re meetin’ up after her shift."

"She recognised you? Is it safe?"

"Perfectly safe. My family don’t go in for sellin’ each other out an’ anyway you don’t think someone as high up the wanted list as Dariel would really go employin’ people who turn guests in, do you?"

"So am I invited?"

"If you want. Who’s your little friend? You can bring her as well."

"Perhaps..."

"Not getting all twitchy around strange women again?"

"I don’t-"

"You do. What about Piri?"

"She turned out to be a hired killer if you remember."

"Muller’s lady?"

"We got on fine when you were away from the base."

"Gems in the pub?"

"Not my type. I was never ‘twitchy’ around Marianne either."

"Marianne’s not quite in the same category. I think your friend’s waiting for you- want me to get you anything from the bar?"

"Mineral water. And she has been drinking red wine."

"Okay. Just one thing: try findin’ out her name at some point."

"What makes you think I haven’t already?" Avon turned and walked back to the table. "Sorry for the delay- he’s irritating but useful. How about we double the stake?"

"Gloves off in that case." She peeled them off to reveal short, unpainted nails on her left hand and longer, sharply pointed, black-painted nails on the right. Avon tried to look disinterested.

"Your break."

Vila insisted on watching the end of the game after he’d brought the drinks from the bar. It was very close but the woman potted the black. She shook Avon’s hand, grazing his palm lightly with the tips of her nails.

"Good game. And as for you... Nice... Boots."

"Thanks." Vila seemed to be choking on his brandy. "What?"

"Over. Here." Vila swallowed the remaining contents of his glass and dragged Avon over to the door."

"Well?"

"How blatant d’y’ want her to be?" Avon looked nonplussed. "Nice. Boots. Yer supposed to be a tart. Work it out." Vila nipped out of the room, leaving Avon to make his way back to the pool table.

"Well now, I seem to have got rid of him for the time being. Where do you suggest we continue this?"

"I’ve got a perfectly adequate room but," she looked him over appraisingly, "yours is probably more luxurious. I demand you take me there immediately."

First Dariel and now her. I seem to be having far too good a week...

Vila

"So..." He set the drinks down on the table they had located in a quiet corner. "What you bin up to since I last saw you?" Lyzbet crossed her legs and adjusted her skirt to actually cover the top of her thigh."

"Oh, this’n’that. I got off Earth after that last party you came to."

"The one where you jumped out of your own cake? Classy that."

"So I did the rounds: Space City, Freedom City, Milliways... met about half the Federation’s Most Wanted list: Bayban, Travis, that Prefect guy who criticised the President’s fashion sense. Then I ran into a high up in the SCorps. He introduced me to the guy who runs this casino chain, and I got the job here- much better class of punter. So what you bin doin’ other than getting mixed up wi’ rebels?"

"Remember Tal Reece? I brought him to your party an’ you pulled him."

"Girl’s gotta have a hobby."

"Well I ended up wi’ his ex."

"Does Reece know?"

"Wouldn’t of thought it: he got taken away when the Pear Tree got raided. Pity really- he was a good kid. I only escaped then ’cos I went in late that night; I was caught later when I was tryin’ to get the money to clear out of town. They got Big Ray the Sociopath in the raid as well though an’ he was after me for some money he thought I owed him so’s wasn’t all bad. Big Ray didn’t ever care if he got payment in money, goods or limbs..."

"Hold on- wasn’t it Big Ray that Reece caught his bloke going down on in an alley?"

"Possibly. Gotta allow everyone one mistake. He got the hang of the easy locks much faster than Reece anyway. Better at computers than regular thievin’ though- that’s our main line of business these days. I find people who need stuff done and send them over to him. ’Cept the ones he finds himself by crackin’ their systems. ’Nough ’bout me, you heard from anyone else recently?"

He let himself silently into the hotel room and powered the lights just enough to see. Avon was curled around the blonde from the poolroom, both fast asleep. Vila thought it was too cute an image to disturb so he grabbed the extra blankets from the top shelf of the wardrobe and curled up on the sofa.

Someone was moving in the room; he was instantly alert. The blonde pulled a robe around herself before he got a chance to see any more than he had the previous evening.

Guess I’ll just have to ask Avon if that’s her natural hair colour... "Goin’ anywhere?"

"Alright if I have a shower before I leave?"

"Sure- just don’t go stealin’ anything."

"You think that badly of me?"

"Who said what I thought of you? Jus’ what I’d do."

She glared at him and flounced through to the bathroom. Avon propped himself on one elbow.

"She followed me back- can we keep her?"

"Tempting. How we gonna feed her?"

"You feed stray cats."

"Only so’s they don’t go elsewhere when the mice are hidin’. What’s she called?"

"Pixie." Avon looked far too pleased with himself.

"You shagged someone called Pixie!"

"You had Fifi Trixabelle."

"She was a go-go dancer- stage names don’t count."

"I think you’ll find they do. How was your cousin?"

"Second cousin. Still a tart."

"Why should that surprise me? Are you planning on sitting over there all day?"

"Course not." Vila bounced onto the bed and grabbed the sheets. "Fuck it, Avon! Did you have to get yourself cut up that much?" The scratches seemed to cover a large proportion of Avon’s chest, back and arms.

"Complaining because I had more fun than you last night?" Avon smiled lazily.

"Says who?"

"Someone who didn’t sleep on the sofa."

"Smug git. I’ll get you for that." Vila pinned Avon’s wrists to the pillow.

"Before or after our guest leaves?"

"No time like the present."

On to Chapter Ten

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