Delay in Transit Read Online Free Page B

part, that is. In the ethics of a gambling house, what's done
to insure profit is merely prudence."
     
     
They moved on to other games, though Cassal lost his briefly acquired
enthusiasm. The possibility of winning seemed to grow more remote.
     
     
"Hold it," said Dimanche. "Let's look into this."
     
     
"Let me give you some advice," said Cassal. "This is one thing we can't
win at. Every race in the Galaxy has a game like this. Pieces of plastic
with values printed on them are distributed. The trick is to get certain
arbitrarily selected sets of values in the plastics dealt to you. It
seems simple, but against a skilled player a beginner can't win."
     
     
"Every race in the Galaxy," mused Dimanche. "What do men call it?"
     
     
"Cards," said Cassal, "though there are many varieties within that
general classification." He launched into a detailed exposition of the
subiect. If it were something. he was familiar with, all right, but a
foreign deck and strange rules--
     
     
Nevertheless, Dimanche was interested. They stayed and observed.
     
     
The dealer was clumsy. His great hands enfolded the cards.
Not a Godolphian nor quite human, he was an odd type, difficult to
place. Physically burly, he wore a garment chiefly remarkable for its
ill-fitting appearance. A hard round hat jammed closely over his skull
completed the outfit. He was dressed in a manner that, somewhere in the
Universe, was evidently considered the height of fashion.
     
     
"It doesn't seem bad," commented Cassal. "There might be a chance."
     
     
"Look around," said Dimanche. "Everyone thinks that. It's the classic
struggle, person against person and everyone against the house. Naturally,
the house doesn't lose."
     
     
"Then why are we wasting our time?"
     
     
"Because I've got an idea," said Dimanche. "Sit down and take a hand."
     
     
"Make up your mind. You said the house doesn't lose."
     
     
"The house hasn't played against us. Sit down. You get eight cards,
with the option of two more. I'll tell you what to do."
     
     
Cassal waited until a disconsolate player relinquished his seat and
stalked moodily away. He played a few hands and bet small sums in
accordance with Dimanche's instructions. He held his own and won
insignificant amounts while learning.
     
     
It was simple. Nine orders, or suits, of twenty-seven cards each. Each
suit would build a different equation. The lowest hand was a quadratic. A
cubic would beat it. All he had to do was remember his math, guess at
what he didn't remember, and draw the right cards.
     
     
"What's the highest possible hand?" asked Dimanche. There was a note
of abstraction in his voice, as if he were paying more attention to
something else.
     
     
Cassal peeked at the cards that were face-down on the table. He shoved
some money into the betting square in front of him and didn't answer.
     
     
"You had it last time," said Dimanche. "A three dimensional
encephalocurve. A time modulated brainwave. If you had bet right, you
could have owned the house by now."
     
     
"I did? Why didn't you tell me?"
     
     
"Because you had it three successive times. ~Phe probabilities against
that are astronomical. I've got to find out what's happening before you
start betting recklessly."
     
     
"It's not the dealer," declared Cassal. "Look at those hands."
     
     
They were huge hands, more suitable, seemingly, for crushing the life from
some alien beast than the delicate manipulation of cards. Cassal continued
to play, betting brilliantly by the only standard that mattered: he won.
     
     
     
     
One player dropped out and was replaced by a recruit from the surrounding
crowd. Cassal ordered a drink. The waiter was placing it in his hand
when Dimanche made a discovery.
     
     
"I've got it!"
     
     
A shout from Dimanche was roughly equivalent to a noiseless kick in the
head. Cassal dropped the drink. The player next to him scowled but said
nothing. The dealer blinked and went on dealing.
     
     
"What have you