“Send it to the Basalt Foundation.”

“So, poker isn’t the only game you play?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “But every one of them I play to win, and since I’m working for you, I hope you won’t mind.”

Emblyn Palace Resort, Garnet Coast

Basalt

Prefecture IV, Republic of the Sphere

10 February 3133

While the junket at the resort was supposed to last until the twelfth, I opted to join Bianca and Quam in leaving on the last shuttle on the tenth. A number of the people I’d skinned asked if they were going to get a chance to win their money back, but I could see they really didn’t want me at the table. That was fine with me, as I’d done a bit more damage than I expected to and my encounter with Emblyn had made it clear that I was an employee. While he did have an entrepreneur’s appreciation of my skills, in his organization there was only one big dog, and he was it.

And on the scale he worked, I made Snookums look like a wolfhound.

I was content to leave early as I’d attracted a bit more attention than I wanted to. People were noticing me and knew my name, and it wasn’t because I’d given money to the Basalt Foundation. The story of the B&T Poker Express Limited jumping the maglev tracks and crashing at Half-Mil Junction had gotten around. It was better to fade than stick around and give folks an opportunity to form an opinion.

At the terminal in Contressa Quam was determined that Snookums would not travel as baggage. Bianca opted to help him out and took possession of the dog while Quam wrestled with a big basket of food. The shuttle’s conductor recognized Bianca and allowed her to bring the dog on, whereas all other pets were relegated to the baggage compartment.

Quam took up the back bench and we nabbed seats one row forward. Snookums, who sat with her master, growled at anyone lingering around waiting to use the bathroom, so we had a fair amount of privacy. This pleased Quam, who opened his basket and set about melding various foodstuffs into combinations which he shared with us and one three-year-old waif who wandered in our direction while his mother slept.

Bianca smiled at me. “I can’t thank you enough for the donation. Ring transferred six hundred thousand into the Foundation’s account. It’s all anonymous, of course, but it was nice of him to match your donation stone for stone.”

“Indeed, it was.” I nodded slowly and even smiled. Emblyn had given more than he needed to, but claimed half as his own generosity. He had to have known I’d find out. I could think of any of a number of explanations for his action, and all sorts of messages he was sending me. It was clear he was testing me, seeing if I would take umbrage at his having laid claim to money I had won. If I were a rash man, it would provoke rash action, but he already knew I wasn’t rash. So, he reminded me yet again who was more important.

What he seemed to forget was that it was all his money anyway. The conclusions I drew from that oversight were not a message he wanted to send, I was fairly certain.

I reached a hand inside my coat and brought out a cashier’s check for another four hundred fifty thousand stones. It had been made out to the Foundation as well. “This represents half the winnings I had, plus the eighty thousand I tried to have friend Quam take as interest on his loan.”

“Mr. Donelly, Sam, you have given much too much.”

“My lady, this is in keeping with my agreement with Quam.”

She fixed me with a hard-eyed stare. “Sam, this is a lot of money.”

“I have more than enough left over you know.” I smiled. “I appreciate your concern, but I am doing well right now. And if I decide to give more, you’ll not protest, right?”

“Ahem. I spend my days dealing with people who have unrealistic expectations and ideas about money. You’ve won what anyone would consider to be a life-changing amount of money. I just want you to be one of the success stories.”

“Oh, I’m a survivor.”

“Okay, I’ll take you at your word. But I won’t play cards with you.” She softened her expression. “And if there is anything I can do for you…”

“You can answer a question.”

A hint of fear flashed through her eyes for a moment, then she nodded. “Anything.”

“Quam gave me his perspective on the nature of the disagreement between you and your father. Is your father’s opinion of people really that harsh?”

Bianca’s brows furrowed. “It wasn’t always, but it has changed over the years. My uncle Ivan and my mother both used to soften his opinions, but after they died, he relied more on Bernard. You see, my grandfather was a MechWarrior who fought for Victor Steiner-Davion, and then threw in with Devlin Stone. He wanted peace so his sons would never have to pilot ’Mechs, and this was good because my father was singularly bad at it. Bernard, on the other hand, is very good. So is Teyte. Growing up in a time of peace, they’ve harkened back to the Davion warrior tradition from before The Republic—this despite Basalt being blessed with a lot of peace and prosperity over the last three centuries. We weren’t entirely without combat—what world has been—but fate has been very good to Basalt. As my father has worked with Bernard to train him to rule in his stead, Bernard’s influence has grown steadily.”

“I skinned your brother and cousin both. Bernard is not exactly the sort of compassionate ruler I’d want over me.”

“He wasn’t always like that, and I hope he will get back to being himself. He was a happy child. It was his idea that I start the Basalt Foundation. I like working with the Foundation because there is lots of organization to deal with, and I can make a difference. Coordinating things during a disaster is hectic, but I get things done and it feels great.” The rising tone of her voice and the light burning in those blue eyes underscored her words. “Here and there we get to ease some burdens for some people.”

“You do it well by all accounts.”

“You are too kind. I just want to do better and more.” She shrugged. “What is your ambition, Sam?”

“Same as yours, I think. I like the idea of making life better for folks.”

“And you do that by robbing them blind at poker?”

I smiled. “Well, sometimes you have to make them look at what they value, and encourage them to take steps to preserve or abandon same. How well you react to adversity reveals the strength of your character. Some folks turn out to be stronger than they think.”

“And the others?”

“They’re a headstone shy of discovering they’ve got nothing.”

I left Bianca with Quam and returned to the Grand Germayne. I placed a call to the cutout and within two hours of my return I was sitting in a nondescript bar with Gypsy. I filled him in on relevant details of the weekend, then quickly outlined a strike. We organized the operation swiftly that night and then, the next evening, we executed it flawlessly.

The Heights district of Manville was located in the southeast quadrant. It had grown up around the Germayne palace and featured some of the finest homes in the city. Because these homes were built on the sides of hills well above the level of the rivers, water was pumped up to the tops of the hills to reservoirs, then gravity served to provide suitable water pressure to deal with the citizenry’s needs.

Our operation consisted of three separate actions. The first involved setting fire to the wooden framing for a seventy-four-thousand-square-decimeter mansion on Beryl Road. While rain had soaked the wood, suitable application of accelerant started a merry blaze that was visible from most of the city. An alarm immediately went out and fire crews from two station houses reported to fight the blaze.