I frowned. “I gathered, from Bianca’s surprise at her father being here, that this was the last place she’d expect to see him.”

“Indeed, but so many of the rich and powerful are here that the Count could not afford not to be seen among them. He and Emblyn had a falling out after our host asked for Sarah’s hand in marriage. The Count, who is conservative enough to make the Blakists appear to be the soul of liberal enlightenment, was incensed that a lowly off-world merchantman commoner would think he was worthy of Germayne blood. The pity is that Emblyn really liked the old man, and had cut him in on a number of deals that buoyed the family fortunes for a bit, but now that pipeline has been closed off.”

“And yet he is here.”

Quam snorted and his dog sneezed. “Of course he is. Emblyn would not stop him. I’m sure no invitation was issued to him, but a suite was reserved all the same. Emblyn does want entrée into the highest echelons of Basalt society. He wants to be seen as an equal, and if his blood does not measure up, his manners can. His sense of philanthropy helps as well, and he donates to the Foundation both to help his image and to tweak the other Germaynes for their niggardly participation in Bianca’s enterprise.”

I gave the man a sly look. “That’s rather astute political analysis for someone who purports to be little more than a food critic.”

Quam started to slip back into his character and deny all, then his dark eyes narrowed. He whispered in the dog’s ear. “Mr. Sam sees what others do not, Snookums. He will bear watching.”

“I hope you do watch, Quam.” I smiled. “After all, it’s your money I’ll be playing with.”

The dinner was very good. I was seated at a table for ten, between an actor and a psychic, which was pretty much my definition of hell, especially when the psychic congratulated her on the awards she had won in past lives. As they compared notes on who it was the actress likely had been, I felt myself slipping closer and closer to my next life.

After dinner there were music and dancing. I did manage to get Bianca onto the floor and we moved well together. I would have asked her to dance more, but the night’s storms rolled in early. Everything ground to a halt as massive silver spiderwebs of fire raced over the dark clouds and stabbed at the earth. The lightning came so quickly and so bright that it left dark spots before my eyes, and spontaneous applause arose after particularly spectacular strikes.

I smiled. Emblyn, I realized, had hit upon something that all the other promoters had missed. They tried to hide the rain. They thought people would fear the lightning. Emblyn had raised the Palace so people could stand like gods just beneath the clouds and watch the argent bolts torture the planet below. The sense of power it gave one was indescribable.

And, if dwelt upon too long, might convince one that a planet’s fate should be put in his hands alone.

As the storm abated, the evening ended. Quam called down to the high-stakes room host and set up a line of credit for me. I left the party and went there, finding a few people I recognized from above already involved in a game. I sat in and watched, playing cautiously for the first few hands. I folded quickly since I’d caught no cards, but it was really too early for me to do much anyway.

As the old poker saying goes, if you can look around the table and you don’t see the person who is the pigeon, then you’re it. I actually found several pigeons who played as if the money had no value. They were looking for the thrill of Lady Luck kissing the top of their heads as opposed to using those heads to supplement with guile what luck was denying them.

I watched how they bet and what they bet on. There were a couple of abortive attempts at bluffing, but the bluffers backed off when an aggressive raise came back at them. I knew those people could, therefore, be bluffed. And those who raised to counter a bluff could fall hard to a hand that looked horrid based on the cards showing but had some powerful combinations hidden in the down cards.

I started by pulling thirty thousand stones from the line of credit, and dipped as low as twenty-two before I began winning. I won one hand with a bluff that brought me back even. The very next hand I caught a full house, but you couldn’t see that in the up cards, so I was aggressively counterbluffed. I kept raising and doubled my stake on that hand alone.

A couple of the players decided to retire for the night, which left seats open for Bernard and Teyte. The table really hadn’t needed more pigeons, but we got a brace in them. It didn’t hurt that Bernard didn’t like me, that Teyte caught that dislike from his cousin, and that the two of them downed liquor shots with the enthusiasm Quam used in scarfing canapés.

The other players at the table saw how the power was shifting and they continued to play. They lost hands to the Germaynes that they’d not have lost to me. I quickly realized they were paying a voluntary luxury tax, since the Germaynes did have power. If they plied their power the way they played their cards, however, it would be squandered fast and uselessly.

What I did to them that night wasn’t pretty. Ideally I’d take little pride in leaving two drunks not so much as a stone in their shoes, but it was a joy to fleece the two of them. They’d likely not faced any real competition in forever and kept ordering up racks of chips, signing chits that, if I’d read the reports on the family financing right, were stealing from their own great-grandchildren.

I kept at them until, finally, Emblyn himself came to the room and cut their credit off. He was good about it and they acquiesced. The others at the table got up, happy to be let out of the meat grinder. I gathered all the chips and chits, stacking them neatly, then picked up the deck, ordering cards and shuffling. I kept my face expressionless despite having won enough to buy myself a little distillery where I could make the finest Irish whisky known to humanity.

Emblyn sat down opposite me as the staff cleared the room, and he motioned to me to remain seated. “You realize, Mr. Donelly, that the Germaynes drew half a million stones into this game and it’s all sitting there in front of you. It was my money with which they played, and they will never pay it back. That’s a lot of money.”

“I know. Half a million of your money, three hundred thousand and change of other people’s money.” I slid five stacks of chits to the middle of the table, then stacked the deck of cards on top of them. “Cut for high card, double or nothing.”

Emblyn sat back for a moment, fingers brushing over his chin. “Interesting. A pure gamble offered by a man who doesn’t really gamble. You feel safe in offering the bet because you realize I don’t gamble either.”

“Oh, he who owns the house has the odds in his favor, so it’s not gambling. I know that. You like sure things. As do I. The question is, will you take the chance?”

He shook his head. “No. As you said, I don’t gamble. Neither do you. So, what I will do is this. I will double that to a million if you cut the deck. If you cut the deck to the three of clubs.”

“And if I don’t?”

“In four hours there is a DropShip leaving Contressa spaceport. You and your winnings will be on it, never to grace Basalt again.”

I thought for a moment, then nodded. I squared the deck there on the stack, then cut and revealed the three of clubs.

“Very good, Mr. Donelly, very good. You stacked the deck. You knew what the bottom card was, so you knew where the three of clubs should be. I like that. I want to know that a man in your position has the foresight and courage to stack the deck in his favor, and then the guts to take the plunge.”

“You might mistake me, sir. Could be I thought walking away with my winnings was worth the risk.”

“If that’s true, there are two fools at this table, and I think the odds of that are highly unlikely.” He stood slowly. “Your account will be credited with an extra half a million stones.”