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RYRIK
“...double down.”
“No, no…again.”
“Dammit!”
“Keep going.”
Words filtered around me as I made my way through the casino floor like a Trolovian river snake. I shuffled, head down, nearly indistinguishable from an everyday patron. Even the staff didn’t really recognize me, and that was the point.
I was collecting intel. It’s what I do best. Blend in, listen, and report my findings. I honed this skill during the war. It’s amazing what deep secrets and critical information people will divulge if they think you’re not listening.
Back then, the intel I dug up was lifesaving. These days, it’s almost as critical. The information I gather and pass on keeps this casino running. The stuff people chatter about, off the cuff, uncensored and unfiltered, is paramount for keeping guests happy. An old woman at the slots will easily complain about the discomfort of her chair to the stranger at her side. Stick a survey in her face, though, and she’s too dazzled by the gift shop coupon to give real feedback.
“The buffet here is pretty good. I don’t know, they do a great job of grilling the meat just right. But what good is that to me when it’s closed half the time? Sometimes I think about going to that other place down the way. You know the one. Food is crap, but at least they’re open.”
This made my ears perk up. The voice came from Sami Greengall, a high roller who always had nothing but the highest praise to give to my boss’ face. Good to know there’s something we could actually do to make him stay longer.
Full bellies equal open wallets.
I wrote that down and continued on. A lady expressed disappointment in the color choice for the tile in the lady’s bathroom. An old man complained about how bright the lights were over the card tables. One couple audibly spoke about how unfair it was that they couldn’t bring their kids onto the game floor. Well, there was nothing we could do about the actual law, at least in this case. But maybe an offsite child watch program would be lucrative.
This was all very good intel. I finished noting my observations down and forwarded them to Draven, the owner of the Black Star Casino and my old friend. He would read what I found for him and decide how to act from there. He was always the real numbers guy, able to take data and make the best decisions based on it. I left all that to him.
A message beeped through on my percomm. Draven never usually replied to me that quickly.
Again with the kids thing, it read.
I let out a quick chuckle as I pushed my way through some double doors. As I did, I grabbed my suit jacket, straightened my tie, and fixed my posture. Just like that, I’m Ryrik once again. Entertainment director of the casino and respected member of Draven’s inner circle.
Without breaking stride, I walked back onto the casino floor. Suddenly, people acknowledged me. Staff scuttled away and guests greeted me with familiarity. I was no longer invisible. Amazing what such a small change in demeanor could accomplish, especially in a place like a casino.
I made my way to my destination. Our new restaurant. A far cry from the ever-popular buffet, it was fine dining. We hired a new sommelier and celebrity chef to give the finest luxury culinary experience to our more discerning guests. The kind of guests that even Sami Greengall wished he was.
“Chef,” I said with a nod. He looked at me with enormous, dark bags under his bloodshot eyes. From what I knew about the culinary world, this was a mark of a well-seasoned professional. Even in the endless twilight of Thodos III, dinner service had only just started, and he already looked like he had one foot in the grave.
“Ryrik,” he replied, handing me the menu for the evening. A smattering of guests were already seated, enjoying their aperitif while the kitchen banged out the first round of hors d'oeuvres for the night.
And then there was one group of gentlemen, seemingly enjoying more than what was on order. Amber, our new hostess, was cozied up to their table. She was supposed to be at the stand, not lingering tableside.
The group was VIP Mondions. I considered that maybe she was buttering them up, encouraging them to spend to their heart’s content. I noticed a coy smile on her face and found that turn of events strange. I’d met Amber a few times, and she always struck me as a little quiet. During her orientation, I noticed she didn’t look me in the eye while speaking to me.
That was why I had her assigned to the hostess position. I figured someone shy like her would do better if she didn’t need to interact with the guests as much as a waitress. Yet there she was, sharing a joke with some of the richest men on the Thodos III space station.
Perhaps I’d misjudged her. That was a realization that settled as fact when I watched her reach out and trail her hand suggestively up the arm of one of the guests. She leaned in closer, almost like she whispered something in his ear.
A tickle of irritation pricked at the base of my spine as I watched Amber flirt with those Mondions. I immediately chided myself. It was ridiculous to get worked up over a human woman I barely knew. Even if she was pretty with her honey-brown hair hanging loosely over her shoulder.
“Ryrik?”
“Yes, it’s good.” I shoved the menu, despite not looking at it for even a moment, back into the chef’s hands. The man needed to get to work and so did I. I had misread one of my staff. That was something that needed rectifying immediately.
My ability to judge people, to gather information from the slightest of cues, had saved our lives on the battlefield.
Now it was my way of helping to build a fortune for my brothers and myself.
If I’d been that wrong about one little human female… it didn’t bear thinking about. I needed to understand her better.
