‘Security,’ she replied.
She took him to the bar. He was amused to see that it was made of a single, polished section of nalwood. Now was that a good omen or a bad one?
‘What’s amusing you?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘You haven’t done this before, have you?’ she asked.
‘No, it’s not really my speed,’ he said.
‘Then why?’ she asked
Daur shrugged. ‘I need to make a little money.’
‘You’ve got a little money in your pocket.’
‘A little more.’
‘You’re in trouble?’
‘Isn’t everyone?’ he asked.
The hostess frowned. It was a decent answer. Pretty much everyone she saw through the red door was in trouble, even if that trouble was just an over-fondness for cards. She always felt sorry for the punters who came along with desperate dreams of turning a little into a lot. It never happened.
She always felt especially sorry for the men, like the nice-looking captain before her, who seemed honest and good-hearted, but who were about to ruin their good character forever.
‘I’ll send someone over,’ she said.
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘To keep you company until a space opens at a table,’ she replied.
‘I thought you were keeping me company?’ he said.
She laughed.
‘You can’t afford me, captain,’ she said.
He blushed immediately.
‘I didn’t mean–’ he began.
She was genuinely surprised by the offence he imagined had been taken.
‘I’ll send someone over,’ she said.
The hostess left Daur at the bar and went away through a curtain into the private rooms. Urbano was watching the bar area on a monitor. He seemed in a particularly foul mood.
‘What’s up with this one, Elodie?’ he asked, gesturing at the screen image of Daur. ‘He’s got a fidget I don’t like.’
‘Well, he’s got a stake in his pocket that you will,’ she replied. ‘He’s a proper gentleman, and as pure as the driven. You can take him for everything. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.’
‘How much has he got?’ Urbano asked. He was daintily cleaning his teeth with a stainless steel pick. Elodie had worked for Cyrus Urbano for eight years, and she still could not reconcile his gentile mannerisms with the frenzied brutality she knew he was capable of.
‘I didn’t take it and count it,’ she replied snidely, ‘but I’d say a thousand at least.’
Urbano whistled. ‘Where did a man like that get a thousand?’
‘Maybe he borrowed it from Guard payroll. That might explain his nerves.’
‘The wirelink says he’s an officer in the Tanith First,’ said Urbano, reading off the data-log.
‘He’s obviously got problems on his shoulders,’ said Elodie. ‘That makes him desperate, which makes him careless.’ She looked around at the girls waiting on the couches.
‘I need someone to charm him,’ she said. Two or three of her regulars were about to raise their hands.
‘Did you say he was Tanith?’ asked the new girl.
‘That’s right,’ said Elodie.
The girl got up.
‘I’ll take this one,’ she said.
‘That’s right, you’re from the dead world too, aren’t you?’ asked Elodie.
The girl nodded. She was good-looking, with the dark hair and pale skin of the Tanith. She’d only been with them two nights, on probation still, and she hadn’t yet hosted a customer.
‘Send someone with a bit more experience,’ Urbano told Elodie.
‘No, let’s give her a chance. The Tanith connection’s too good to miss out on. This Captain Daur needs careful handling if he’s going to owe the house.’
Urbano shrugged his heavy shoulders. He looked over at the new girl and nodded.
‘Off you go then,’ Elodie told her. The new girl smiled, checked her reflection in the mirror, straightened her red silk gown, and headed for the exit.
‘Just remember,’ Elodie called after her. The new girl stopped and looked back.
‘Try not to screw it up, Banda,’ Elodie said.
The new girl smiled.
‘I’ll do my best,’ she said.
‘We should get a drink,’ she said.
Daur looked up. He’d been watching the cantor-finches in the nearest cage.
‘I wanted to keep my head straight,’ he said.
‘You here to play?’ she asked, sitting down next to him, and draping the skirts of her red silk dress over her legs elegantly.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Then you’re here to have a good time,’ she said. ‘We’ll have a drink, and then perhaps another.’ She made a two-fingered gesture at the drinks servitor. ‘Sacra,’ she said.
‘That’s hard stuff,’ said Daur.
‘You don’t drink sacra?’
She leaned close to him, and sniffed him.
‘You’re not Tanith at all, are you?’ she asked.
‘Verghast,’ he said. ‘The regiments amalgamated after the siege of Vervunhive, and it was restructured–’
The girl in the red dress made her hand mimic a chattering mouth.
‘Lots of words, none of them interesting,’ she said. ‘What’s your name, Verghast?’
‘Ban. Ban Daur.’
‘Ban, eh? Well, I’m Ban-da.’
‘Really? Do you know, there’s a Tanith girl in the First called Jessi Banda. She looks just like you.’
‘Does she?’ asked Banda. ‘And I thought I was a one-off.’
‘Well,’ said Daur, ‘she’s quite beautiful too.’
Banda smiled. ‘There, you see. Mouth moving, better words coming out. That was almost charming.’
‘Oh, I can be,’ said Daur.
‘When?’ she asked.
The servitor put two small glasses of sacra in front of them.
‘I’ll warn you when it’s going to happen again,’ he said.
They clinked glasses.
‘You’re nervous,’ she said quietly.
‘This is all very new to me,’ he said.
‘Then why come here?’
‘I didn’t have much choice.’
‘Under pressure to perform are we?’ she asked.
‘Something like that.’
‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘There’s an evil superior officer, and you’re horribly beholden to him, in debt somehow. He’s sent you here tonight to raise funds to get him off your back, because you’re such a butter-wouldn’t-melt innocent that you’ll take the house. You’re his secret weapon.’
Daur turned pale.
‘Don’t,’ he shuddered.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Why did you say that?’
‘I was just joking. Throne, did I hit a little too close to home?’
Daur took another sip of his drink.
‘What’s his name?’ she asked.
‘Rawne,’ he replied.
‘Are you his secret weapon?’
‘How can I be if you’ve already seen through me?’
She shrugged. She saw Elodie signal from the curtain.
‘There’s a seat opening,’ she told Daur. ‘Are you feeling lucky?’
Urbano watched the monitor as the Tanith captain took his place at one of the lacquer-work tables. The girl in the red dress stood at his side, draping an over-familiar arm across his shoulder.
‘This is going to be painful,’ he smiled. ‘The ninker’s terrified. Way out of his comfort zone. Easy meat.’
‘Either that,’ said Elodie, ‘or the best hustler you’ve ever seen. He’s almost too good to be true.’
‘He’s the genuine article,’ Urbano scoffed. ‘It’s right there on the data-log. We need to make him reckless. Let him play a couple of hands, and then take twenty thousand out of the safe and move it to the dealer’s drawer. Make sure he sees it. Make sure his mouth waters. I want his safety catches to flip all the way off.’