The inside of the gambling den was hazy and musty, filled with the scent of incense covering the pungent smell of sweat and blood. The ground floor was busy, stone tinged with the faint grime that came from being around living beings too long. However, up above, the higher floors were illuminated by the brilliant golden glow of fusion lamps, ensuring that the wealthy would have a comfortable and bright experience.
The antimatter cubes were spread across the floor on tiered benches, each display manned by one of the casino's staff. The cubes seemed to fit in perfectly with the slightly dingy lower floor. Damaged outer shells, covered in a variety of strange materials. Only a few shone with any remnant of light inside them, and these were the ones that most people gathered around. It wasn't until they cracked open the outer shell, however, and looked at the containment system, that they'd know whether they'd just purchased a hunk of junk or something that still had the necessary parts to contain the antimatter for long-term storage.
Most of the cubes in this place were worthless, far from returning the cost to even crack them open and check the components. But there were always a few in the mix that held a few valuable components, and the occasional jackpot. The loss of the money there was worth far less than the revenue brought in from hopeful gamblers who believed they were capable of picking up the subtle signs of working components or an actual reserve of antimatter.
Callum and the Starfield needed to refill the antimatter in her cube, not components. But while there was no chance of him finding enough antimatter to resupply here, there would be a few valuable components buried in this mass of junk. And if he could sell those components, it just might fund their emergency repairs.
The only advantage Callum had was no one would expect a slave to have genuine knowledge on the construction and functionality of antimatter cubes, enough to identify working components from the outside. Which meant no one would fight with him for the cube when he found it, raising the price more than it was worth.
It was a slow process to work his way through the den, checking the cubes one by one, eyes lowered and awkward.
"You's master know you's out gamblin', pup?"
The attendant was giant, bulky, and Callum didn't quite know where to look to find its head. He responded all the same.
"Got… gotta make repairs, but she didn't give enough money for them. I'm dead if I can't get it done. At least here… there's hope."
The giant seemed to believe the desperation in his voice, and Callum finally found its head when leering teeth split open in the middle of what he'd assumed was a torso. "Poor bas'. This one's been saving a special deal. Maybe just for you's?"
From under the bench, the giant pulled out a cube. It looked in terrible condition, but when the giant shook it a faint spark glowed from its depth.
Internally, Callum sneered. Light was often a good sign in a working cube, but if it responded to motion it meant that something in the magnetics had made contact with the containment unit. Only way that happened was if the entire internals were ruptured beyond repair. A scam, if ever he'd seen one, and an obvious one for anyone who knew anything. But not for a desperate slave.
Callum allowed his expression to perk up, before deflating. "I… I need to keep looking. I only have money for one. I've gotta find the best one."
The giant's mouth moved again. "You's might miss a deal. It's may be gone when you's back." He waved the cube gently, causing it to flicker again.
Callum shook his head, looking conflicted and desperate, before turning and hurrying away.
He'd made it through almost the entire den, and so far Callum's hope of getting lucky was proving unlikely. He'd only found one possible cube, but hadn't dared pay for it as it would wipe out almost the entire budget, and the profit wouldn't give them enough for all the resupply needs. That, and assuming he'd be able to find a buyer in a reasonable time.
However, when his fingers passed idly over a heavily damaged cube, Callum had to catch himself from gasping in shock. His fingers had just brushed lightly over a raised bump, and he'd felt something that resembled an engraving.
Maker's marks were not common on antimatter cubes. Generally only those that came from the best lines would bother to mark their brand. That, and the forgeries. Picking up the cube and fondling it lightly, trying to keep his breathing steady, Callum finally managed to confirm he'd found a remnant of an East Imperium cube.
This would pay for their repairs. Not only the emergency repairs, but all their repairs, and maybe even then some.
And, suddenly, Callum realized another problem.
No one would let a slave walk out of here with a cube that valuable in hand. Gradually, another plan began to form in his mind. He didn't need the parts. All he needed was enough money to repair the ship.
He paid for the cube, before returning to the giant's stall with it tucked away.
"Do… you still have that cube?" he asked hesitantly.
The giant leered toothily. "'Fraid it got a bid. I warned you's."
Callum rolled his eyes internally, but forced himself to swallow nervously. Scammers would scam until the very end. "How… how much."
—
A few minutes later, account slightly lighter than he'd like, Callum stood in front of the attendant who opened cubes, and handed over his scam purchase. A faint twitch of a sneer passed over the man's lips when he saw the spark in the cube as Callum jostled it once more, the light far dimmer than it was the first time the giant had moved it. Regardless, he opened it professionally, cutting the edges apart artfully and with great patience, before showing the ruined interior.
Callum allowed his legs to go weak, and he caught himself on the table. Looking desperate, he handed over the second cube. The attendant received it, and began to open it once more. However, when the first edge came off, he suddenly froze, turning the machine off.
"What… What are you doing?" Callum asked, even while his heart leapt for joy. It looked like this may work out after all.
"There appears to be some sort of malfunction with the machine. I'll bring a manager to deactivate it and extract the cube. If you'd rather not wait, I can reimburse you it's cost."
Callum shook his head. "I… there were no other good cubes for that price. I'll wait."
He didn't have to wait long. The attendant soon returned with a woman, her face surrounded by layers of curling horns. Her eyes flicked to the mark on Callum's cheek, before she professionally extended a hand. "Apologies for the wait, ser."
Callum glanced at his hand, before extending it. It only took a few stray thoughts to get something resembling a blush to cross his cheeks as she took his hand and shook it lightly. "I'll extract the cube now."
She studied it thoroughly as she removed the cube from the device, and Callum was certain he didn't imagine the way her eyes widened slightly as she peered inside. She carried it to another machine, before resuming the cutting process herself, displaying it to Callum when she was done.
For such a reputed group, its interior didn't look like much. "You're in luck," the manager said lightly. "The containment unit is slightly cracked, but the magnetic stabilization will likely work again with some repairs. Would you like to sell it to the house? Not many of our auctions or repairfolk are willing to work with a slave."
"I… should take it back to Master…" Callum said hesitantly.
"You could," the manager agreed calmly. "But does your master know you've been gambling with their money?"
"I… uhh..."
"Nice and clean deal. I'll give you 10 times what you put into it, and I'll even throw in a meal before you leave port. How long has it been since you've eaten a starwhale steak?"
Callum shook his head sharply. "Can't!"
This seemed to catch the manager by surprise, one narrow brow lifting. "Oh, why not?"
"I… have to pay for a complete antimatter cube refill with the money, or she'll kill me."
"Didn't you not have the money to begin with?"
"I wouldn't have been gambling if I'd had the money."
"Sounds like your master is out for blood."
Callum nodded glumly, every bit the unfortunate slave. The manger lifted one hand, pressing it against her lips. "Never let it be said that fortune doesn't sometimes favor the bold. I'd hate to see your stroke of good luck end that way. Very well, one complete antimatter refill, at market rate. But I'm afraid I'll have to rescind my offer for the meal."
It was a strange feeling, the satisfaction of getting everything he needed from this deal, but the deep, gut wrenching frustration of also knowing exactly how much money he was being scammed out of. It was best to think of it as a win-win. They both got something they wanted.
Apparently some of his frustration must have crossed his face, because the manager laughed. "I guess you really wanted that steak. You're cute. Fine, last offer. The resupply, and one portion of starwhale steak tips from our VIP kitchen. Deal?"
"Deal," Callum replied quickly, unwilling to push his luck any further. The manager grinned broadly, quickly scooping the cube back off the table to vanish away behind her.
"I'll wire the funds immediately. The steak tips will be out shortly."
And then she was gone. Callum found a quiet corner and sat down, letting some of the jitters out through a vibrating knee. He'd done his fair share of fierce trades, but this one had far too much potential to go wrong. Perhaps the only reason the gambler's den hadn't let him walk out of here and then found him in some alley a few blocks later was because they didn't want to risk catching someone else's attention. At least he was safe, and he'd gotten the money he needed.
Now… he'd eat that small but far too expensive plate of steak tips, purchase the partial resupply, electromagnetic bloc, and the spaceshield, then tip the port for a water refill. They may even have a smidge left over depending on what kind of shield chips he found on the market.
He'd gotten what they needed. It was a good deal.
He just had to keep telling himself that.
