The Golden Token #2
“Temporary housing only for non-residents, rents by the day. I can reserve you a unit.”
Charlie scanned the lobby. There were a few seats on the far wall and he knew he’d seen some in the arrival area.
“Security don’t allow vagrants,” the man said as if reading his mind. “No camping out in the waiting areas. Even with a valid transfer ticket.”
He stifled a growl of irritation, drumming his fingers on the counter. So far this station was a racket, trying to separate him from his credits and doing a good job of it. “How much for the room?”
Not surprised to be quoted a predictably exorbitant price, Charlie set the useless coin on the counter while he transferred the credits, got his code key strip and picked up his bag, ready to make the best of his unexpected layover.
“Hey, don’t forget the token.” The clerk held it up before tossing it to him. “This plus a few credits’ll get you a drink or a spin of the roulette wheel. Not good for much else.”
Charlie made a one-handed catch and slid the disc into a pocket on his utility pants.
“No open carry weapons, by the way,” the clerk said, leaning over the counter.
“Gotta keep them stowed in your baggage. Security does a body scan before anyone gets into the casino. They get real upset if they see weapons. Had a few incidents with hotheaded miners over the years, trying to settle their personal grievances with blasters. Tempers are short these days.”
Raising one hand to signify he’d heard, Charlie made his escape.
The rental units were a level down from the terminal.
As Charlie navigated his way there, his impression that this was a facility with marginal maintenance was reinforced.
Dents and patches in the hull, a gravlift that was like swimming in glue, refuse gathered along the edges of corridors—Sectors Station 47 was not a happy place.
Not as bad as some he’d been in over the years, but not anywhere he wanted to linger.
The few people he passed had the same pasty, pinched look the desk clerk exhibited, intent on their own errands, virtually ignoring him.
He walked through the housing corridor, noting how many of the door indicators showed green for unoccupied.
This place had fallen on hard times, judging by the vacancies.
He found the number he’d been assigned and pulled the key from his pocket.
The casino token came with it, rolling to the deck with a clink and wavering away.
Charlie kept his hold on the kitbag and tried to get the archaic key strip to work.
The loss of the flamboyant token wasn’t even a minor irritation to him right now, not worth chasing.
“See a penny, pick it up and all the day you’ll have good luck,” said a melodious voice from his left. “I think this must be yours, stranger?”
He half turned, finding himself facing a woman as tall as he was, dressed in the standard beige, one-piece Station uniform but wearing an incongruous pair of red stiletto heels. Her hair was lavender and aqua, massed curls bouncing as she walked toward him, token held in well-manicured fingers.
Automatically he extended his own hand. “Penny? Is that what it’s called?”
Green eyes sparkling, she laughed. “Who knows? My granny taught me the saying when I was a kid. Said it was an Old Terra proverb from before credits were invented. I like the rhythm.”
“You can keep it if you want,” he offered. “You found it.”
“Employees aren’t allowed to gamble or drink with those. For the paying customers only.” She dropped the coin onto his palm. Leaning closer, she said, “Basically it’s a scam to get you into the casino.”
“You work there?” A whiff of her exotic perfume made his head whirl. He made up his mind he was paying the place a visit. He ventured a safe guess. “Dealer? Which table?”
Laughing, she edged past him in the corridor. “Come and find out. I’ll be…on duty, in an hour.”
The view as she walked toward the gravlift was the most appealing thing he’d seen since arriving. He raised his voice. “I’m Charlie by the way.”
Not bothering to glance back, she waved one shapely hand. “Nice to meet you, new neighbor Charlie.”
The rental unit was three small rooms, cleaner than he expected, which made the price less outrageous but it was bigger than he needed for a seventy-two hour stay.
Charlie set up some personal security measures, made sure his kitbag was protected with antitheft deterrents—a man learned a lot of things in the Special Forces that even in retirement he didn’t forget—and headed out to reconnoiter the station.
Casually he took note of the emergency exits, maintenance doors and lifepods.
Who knew if any of the safety features had been properly maintained?
Even a broken down lifepod was better than being in space unprotected, should an emergency strike.
As soon as the gravlift deposited him on Level A, he was assaulted by loud music, the sound of slot machines for counterpoint, and nearly blinded by the lavish glow of an elaborate but outdated holographic display.
The Hall of Good Fortune was flanked by holo dragons, the projected facade resembling a temple of some kind.
He passed the two eight-foot, scowling hologram warriors and entered the casino itself.
Glancing around, Charlie thought all the credits expended on maintenance and upkeep at the Station must be invested here.
The décor was lavish, though a bit threadbare if examined too closely.
He headed for the bar, which stretched along the far wall. There was only one bartender on duty, who acknowledged Charlie’s arrival while easily handling the few customers. “What’ll it be?”
Charlie figured the high end drinks would be diluted in a place like this. “Think I’ll stick to beer.” Pleased to see from the menu flashing on the bulkhead that the place featured his favorite brand, he said, “Give me the Solar Blast.”
“Coming right up.” As he poured the requested lager into a glass with the casino’s dragons twining across the surface, the man said, “Just passing through?”
“I don’t strike you as a miner?” Charlie took a drink, enjoying the taste all the way down.
“In a word, no. And rumor is some big cruiser deigned to dock today, to offload one transfer passenger.” He wiped the faux wooden bar. “Hell, the station owes you, buddy. The docking fees from that ship will keep the lights on for another week or two.”
“I’ve got a few days to kill before my next ride.” Charlie scanned the gaming area but didn’t see the tall, lavender-haired goddess at any of the gaming tables. Well, he was a bit early.
“Looking for someone special or will anyone do for tonight?” The balding bartender leaned closer. “I can make recommendations, cheap. If the discussion’s between us, no casino fee.”
Charlie took another long drink but the bartender hovered, clearly eager to do business. “Don’t know her name,” he said to the man reluctantly. Making a hand gesture, “About this tall, purple hair, red shoes—”
The bartender laughed, slapping his hand on the counter. “You talking about Rose? Outta your league, buddy. She’ll be on soon.” He nodded at the stage in the front of the room. Still chuckling, he walked away in answer to a summons from another customer.
Not knowing what to expect, Charlie moved closer to the stage, sitting at a small table along the side bulkhead under a dramatic mural of dragons and ancient warriors.
Nursing his beer, he was startled when the music cut off mid-song, switching to something with a driving bass beat.
The hologram curtain winked off and five women danced onto the small stage, one at a time, each pausing for a moment in the spotlight before twirling away to make room for the next dancer.
The costumes were revealing, glittering and dramatic, hugging every curve.
Rose was the last to appear and took her place in front of the others.
What followed was a tightly choreographed dance revue, never stopping.
The last sequence was a kick line, nothing but a seemingly impossible sequence of straight leg kicks to eye level until the music ended and the dancers bowed in unison.
Charlie found himself on his feet applauding, although most in the casino were either ignoring the performance or clapping half-heartedly.
Rose looked straight at him, smiling, as she took another bow and then the dancers ran offstage.
He sank into his chair. What was such a stunning, talented dancer doing in a place like this?
She could make a fortune performing in the Inner Sectors or on a big cruise ship.
Of course getting there was damn near impossible when a person started in a backwater sector like this one.
“Hey, golden penny for your thoughts.” It was Rose, still in costume, but with a red silk robe belted over the skimpy fabric. “Did you enjoy the performance? You tell me your thought and I’ll tell you mine. I know you’re good for it, unless you already gambled it away?”
Hastily he stood, getting tangled with his chair. “Please, join me. Your dance was amazing.”
She slid into her seat as he held it for her. “You were the only one paying attention. It was a treat to have an appreciative audience for a change. I’m Rose. Rose Caludi.” She extended her slender hand, the gleam in her eyes and big grin showing her pleasure over his praise.
Having a hard time remembering his own name at the moment, dazzled by her, he took care not to crush her fingers as they shook hands.
“Charlie McBrire. Can I buy you a drink? You must be thirsty after that performance.” He signaled to the bartender.
“I was hoping to get to know you better, neighbor.”