Edgar Howard Lewis leaned on the bar, holding his nose high. His high-button sack coat—a Victorian era replica—squared his shoulders nicely and complimented his tweed vest and top hat. A pocket watch hung from the vest, the loop chain longer than necessary. He ordered a cocktail, complained about the mix, and requested another— demanding this time it be made correctly. It wasn't anything Tracy would have complained about, but his deepfake persona—Mister Edgar Howard Lewis—would make a huge fuss about such things.

He was a wealthy entrepreneur from Earth, visiting Mars to seek out investment opportunities ripe for the taking. At least that's how he got himself invited into the exclusive club casino resort, the Taj Diwan. He could not help but be enraptured by the view of Noctis Labyrinthus. Even with the window tinting activated, the vibrant varicolored sedimentary layers inspired awe in him. But Edgar wouldn't be enamored by such things. He was concerned with people. A curious fellow. And would naturally be drawn to the charismatic likes of the dapper reverend, Roy Rothspalt.

Tracy had set out to seek an audience with the single mother Coraline. But he'd overheard her decline an invitation to attend a luncheon with a friend because she had work at the Taj Diwan.

Even after Tracy spent time obtaining clothes befitting his persona, he had already been there for over an hour, but still had not spotted Coraline.

But, then like a hawk, he sighted the target.

Roy lounged in a long amber leather chaise, a young woman pressed close against him, an uncomfortable public display of affection. Uncomfortable because the woman was obviously employed at the brothel—no matter how stunning her dress—and also awkward because Roy did not return the affection, but seemed to demand it be given to him with his aloof posture.

The urge to whip out his revolvers and force Roy to his knees then handcuff him came on strong. But Tracy had counted the armed bouncers and bruisers stationed on the fringes of the game floor, watching the night's proceedings like vultures. Tracy knew from their no-nonsense posture, they would shoot first, and ask questions later.

And even if they let him live, but dragged him to a soundproof room reserved for beatdowns, the scene he caused would be enough to scare his prey.

Without an acquaintance to introduce him, Tracy did the next best thing. He stared at Roy, while sipping on his drink.

After a short while, Tracy's gaze burned up Roy's patience.

"Can I help you? If you stare at me any longer, I might consider it an affront."

"Sorry, forgive me. I was lost in thought." Tracy adopted an American Southern accent, or his best attempt at one. Edgar was the kind of man to fake an accent he didn't actually possess to impress others—not realizing it was a terrible impression at best.

"I'm looking to play a game of Faro, but I'm afraid I've never been privy to play the game before. I'd be obliged if you'd let me watch and learn."

Roy spread his hands wide. "Well why didn't you just say so? I'd be obliged to train a fellow new to the game. First time here in New Oklahoma?"

"Sure am. I suppose I stand out like a sore thumb."

"Nonsense. I've just never seen ya is all."

"Edgar Lewis is the name. But my friends call me Ed."

Together the three of them approached a Faro table.

Tracy suppressed an internal smile. He was going to mosey up to Roy without the fugitive being none the wiser. He'd offer the man drinks, play the part of a good ole' boy trying to make friends through the shrewd means of monetary persuasion, and try to get Roy good and drunk before the night was over. If everything went according to plan, he could have an inebriated Roy in handcuffs ready to ship back to Earth this very evening.

He strode to the table with pep in his step.

"Mr. Rothspalt." The raised voice cut through the lo-fi neo jazz band and their scat lead singer.

Roy answered with a warm smile. "Sujin McCrory, the Red Prince himself. A pleasure to see you again. And in good health." Roy winked. "How fare the viaducts?"

Tracy caught the hint of a Korean accent, turned and saw the tycoon it belonged to. His back stiffened. The marshal had to force himself to keep walking and not come to an abrupt stop. He hoped his face didn't give away his shock. He did not recognize this Sujin. But the deputy with him, he knew all to well. Russ.

An odd feeling struck Tracy as he watched Russ move. Something about him just wasn't right. The man set off Tracy's internal alarms like a viper. Tracy's gut churned the last meal he'd eaten.

A sour look crossed the tycoon's face. "Let's not discuss business or politics tonight. Mr. Ghelus and I have just returned from a quick trip up to the arctic, and now I'm here to gamble."

"Well you're in luck. We're about to play Faro. You game?"

"Absolutely. You know Leroux, the sheriff of Tharsis, yes? This is his former deputy, Russell Ghelus."

"Former?"

"He works for me now, Reverend. You might say I converted him."

Roy belted a hollow laugh. "You're hilarious, Sujin." He turned to Tracy. "This is my new acquaintance and friend, Mister..." Roy snapped his fingers, trying to conjure up Tracy's phoney name.

"That's fine my good man," said Tracy, attempting to thicken the accent and raise his voice an octave. "We've only just met. I'm Edgar Lewis. Please call me Ed."

Tracy shook hands with Sujin and Russ, greeting each with a, "How-do-ya-do," that rolled off his tongue. Thank goodness he wore a pair of leather gloves or Russ might have recognized his hands.

"Shall we?" Sujin moved towards the Faro table and the rest followed. "How's your hand by the way, Sujin?"

"Better."

Tracy stayed put. To play this game with these men was hedging his bets, and he could potentially waste all of the creds he had left. Russ and he had a history, albeit brief. If he slipped up even once for a moment, Russell might catch on, even with his deepfake disguise and new fancy clothes. Then all hell would break loose. Forget that the former deputy Russ might attempt to kill him, again. Roy would escape.

Luckily with the windows tinted against the setting sun, the low light on the casino floor, the ringing slot machines, the lo-fi tunes, and the haze from all of the tobacco smoke, there was noise pollution and sensory overload aplenty to keep Tracy's performance as Edgar Lewis from too much scrutiny.

"You going to stand and stare all night, Lewis? Don't worry. It's an easy, fast game. You'll pick it up quick. Plus, I'm dying to learn more about you. Right, Cherry?"

"Mmmm. Yes." The woman leered at him, batting her long lashes. Evidently Tracy had selected a deepfake mask that tickled her fancy.

"Well if you insist."

Tracy parted a thick cloud of hookah smoke billowing from another table and joined Roy's group. He stood behind a seated Roy and Cherry, across from the seated Russ and Sujin.

The dealer clarified who was playing and who was spectating, then shuffled the cards, tearing the deck in half, squaring the two bricks of cards, touched the corners of the split deck, and wove them together, finishing with a one-handed bridge shuffle—smooth perfection only achieved by a person who took card mastery seriously.

Tracy breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that he declined to play under the guise of ignorance. While Edgar Lewis would have plenty of funds to buy into the game, he himself did not. He'd failed to remember that he'd faked his way into a top-notch club and the house expected clientele to be high rollers with disposable income to spare.

Come to think of it though, Tracy couldn't figure how a reverend could afford to play. He shouldn't have the salary needed to play this game often. But he seemed to want to be seen with and impress Mr. McCrory. Then again, Roy was ready to show Tracy how to play before his tycoon companion arrived. Was the reverend spending his money earned from the charity of his congregants on gambling? What a shark.

The dealer explained the game to Tracy as they played. Each turn the players placed bets on or around the thirteen face up cards that represented all of the cards available in the deck, dropping chips on whichever cards they thought might be drawn from the spring-loaded deck box next. The first card the dealer flipped was the losing card for that round. The next card was the winning card. The players only won or lost if they placed bets on the exact cards, so the game was relatively risk free at first. But after every fourth card of a given number or face card was flipped, the remaining cards to bet on dwindled, heightening the odds of both winning or losing.

"Curious. Must you mentally track the cards drawn from the deck while also trying to make educated bets?"

Russ, who was losing, barked. "Yep. Or next go around we could snatch up a passerby and pay 'em to be our case keeper."

"Next round, I'll cover the cost," said Sujin, eyeing the dealer. "Can't trust everyone to remember the cards that have been played when substantial stakes are on the line."

The dealer remained quiet, but stiffened at the implied poke at his integrity.

"Some dealers cheat. There's no beating around the bush," said Roy. "Helps the house. Helps the dealer. But not our dealer, Thorton. He's an honest man, ain't you Thorton?"

He nodded.

"Thorton cheats on his wife," said Cherry with a tipsy giggle. "I don't see why he wouldn't cheat at this game."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Roy hooted, elbowing Thorton in the ribs. "Careful around Cherry, men. She's a looker, but she's fierce. Get a few drinks in her and that liquid courage is liable to make her say or do anything."

Thorton turned red in the face, tugging at his bow tie, which looked too tight around his large neck. "Me and my wife's only bonded legally. Everyone knows that we been separated forever."

Roy slapped the man on the shoulder. "Oh she's just yanking yer chain. Come on dealer. New cards. Next round."

"What business are you in, Lewis?" asked Sujin

All eyes turned to him. Tracy inhaled sharp through his nose, remembering to point it up. "I've come into a rather large inheritance thanks to a late family member. I'm looking to invest in several business opportunities here on Rubrum."

They all placed their bets. Russ gazed at him with a funny look.

Did he notice the fake accent? Did the deepfake mask falter? Tracy had been taking deliberate slow movements, but technology no matter how advanced was never foolproof. But if the former deputy suspected anything, he did not act on it.

"What kind of business venture are you considering?" asked Sujin.

"Oh I don't know. I'm new here from Terra. I've heard that ever since the Clean Slate Bill passed, many Terran criminals fled here for refuge, hoping to start over without a criminal record, but bringing their rough and tumble ways with them. I reckon that makes this wild country. I want to outfit a private agency to work alongside local law enforcement. Help them, for a price of course."

Russ lost the bet, upper lip twitching. He scowled, and turned it on Tracy. "We do just fine here on Rubrum, Ed. So thanks, but no thanks."

"On the contrary, this idea intrigues me," Roy said. "So they'd be pseudo-military?"

"No. They'd be agents working for my company, but available for hire to those that can afford our rates. They could work as security, gather intel, spies, almost anything Rubrum needs."

"So mercenaries then?"

"No, Reverend. I'd not be associated with killers for hire, or that disgusting term. The only difference between mercenaries and hitmen is that hitmen work alone."

"Ed's venture would be more like the Pinkertons of old," said Sujin, "I think that's a fantastic idea. I don't understand why no one's ever proposed that before."

Tracy tipped his top hat to Sujin. "A student of history I see."

"I'd be doomed to repeat it if I didn't study and respect the past."

Russ hawked spit into a nearby spittoon. "Privatized cops? I don't like it. Rubrum already has enough trouble as it is."

"All the more reason to bring more order to it," said Sujin.

"Ha. That won't bring order to Rubrum. Just those who can afford the services. Did you know Terra sent a U.S. Marshal here to retrieve someone, Mr. Lewis? You think they'll stop at just one marshal? Nope. They'll send more. And pretty soon our freedom won't be so free anymore."

Tracy fell into character, adopting an argument Edgar would hold. "If you hate Terra so much, why are you so keen on adopting it's practices? Governmental authority is outdated. It's time we privatized at least a sector of law enforcement. It will encourage competition, which is always healthy, and that drives excellence."

"You know," said Roy, "He's got a point."

Russ scoffed.

The reverend held up a finger. "Still, I don't know if I like the idea of more law enforcers on Rubrum. We've been like this for a hundred years. Yet we've regressed. How did ancient kingdoms rise?" Roy tapped his finger on the board. "Pharaoh. One all authoritative king figure with a vision called the shots. And constructed a kingdom still remembered to this day."

"Built on the backs of slaves," said Tracy.

"Exactly, Ed. Sheeple who's meaningless lives would not have mattered otherwise. But now history remembers them as the hands that erected an empire. Without guidance, they'd have rotted into oblivion, wasting pointless lives. We could really make something out of Rubrum, if we united under one Pharaoh, one King."

"Nobody would go for that," said Russ.

Roy shrugged. "You never know. But until then, I'd say, live and let live. Let Rubruns continue to govern themselves, free from more lawmen. Anyone can own a gun. Our God-given right. Let the right of coilguns prevail."

"If we have God-given rights, we must have God-given laws to protect them."

Roy shriveled his nose and pretended to pull out a gun and jabbed Tracy with a finger pistol. "Bang," he said with a tipsy chuckle. Cherry joined in with a boisterous laugh. Sujin snickered. Russ looked irked.

Without thinking, Tracy snatched his revolver from it's holster. It spun several revolutions around his finger. He leveled it at Roy's face. "Bang." It twirled around his finger, landing back in the holster before anyone at the table could blink.

"Ho, ho, good show," said Sujin. "You didn't say you were a gunslinger, Ed."

Tracy knew he'd made a mistake. Roy didn't laugh. He looked offended. But Russ gawked at him openly.

"I practice marksmanship. I enjoy the sport of it."

Stupid Tracy , he chided himself. He'd only had one drink to maintain the persona, but it got to him. No. He let Roy get to him.

The dealer brought everyone's attention back to the game, announcing the next two cards. Everyone at the table had hedged bets on the Ace and lost. Except Roy, who bet on the king. The dealer doubled his chips.

"Look at that Cherry. We're lucky tonight. Always bet on the King." They shared a knowing look, as if Roy had uttered a profound truth.

"You know Roy, it only took one man following a God-given quest to upset all of Egypt. By the time that man left, the Pharaoh was reduced to an effete worm, forced to return home, his army destroyed, his firstborn son dead, and his land ravaged."

A puzzled look constricted Roy's face. "What are you talking about?"

"The epic of Moses. You are a reverend, are you not?"

Roy blinked, his expression now neutral. He cocked back a shot. "I might've read it once."

The rest of the table laughed, except Tracy, who forced a chuckle.

Out of the corner of his eye Tracy spotted Coraline. Outfitted in a gorgeous dress and high heels, she whisked by the table in a hurry, but Roy spotted her as well and snagged her by the arm.

"Coraline, my girl, I was just thinking of you. Why don't you take a moment and join us at the table?"

Coraline wore apprehension on her face. She spoke low. "I'm working Roy."

"Ain't providing customer service part of your job? Come on. Just a quick game of Faro. We need a case keeper, and Mr. McCrory here has agreed to pay you handsomely. Isn't that right?"

Sujin came around the table and took Cora's hand and brought it to his lips. She blushed. "You are a crown jewel among women, if I may say. I'm Sujin McCrory, owner of the SMC railway line. No doubt you've heard of my viaduct project that will one day run straight through Noctis Labyrinthus. I'll pay you a day's salary to case keep if you'd grace us with your presence."

Cherry scoffed, her face contorting. She pulled out a fan to hide her resentment, no doubt. For the first time Tracy noted her skin appeared to have the faintest hint of yellow. He wondered if she was falling ill, or had some condition. Tracy almost felt bad for her. Roy hadn't even introduced Cherry to the rest of the men. He reminded Tracy of his father. He had to fight to keep a grimace intended for Roy in check.

The others were no better. Russ ogled openly, licking his fingertips to slick his hair back. Cora's lips tightened. Tracy could almost see her mind racing, not wanting to appear overeager to take Sujin's creds, but knowing fullwell a day's worth of pay for scoring a simple game was a boon for anyone, let alone a single mother.

Tracy offered Cora his phony name and a light nod, trying to encourage her to stay. Not every man at the game table slithered like a snake.

After much pressure from the men, she agreed to stay, but only for one game. They all offered her their chairs, but she insisted on standing.

Tracy's heartbeat sped up, but not for the same reason as the other men. While the other two men ruined his shot of capturing Roy, this woman here could change that. If only he could have a private conversation with her, pull her aside for just a few minutes.

As they played the next game, Tracy formulated a way to talk to her.

Luck favored Roy that game. He won nearly every round. Each time the dealer turned the winning card he laughed harder than the last time, and each time he found some way to brush up against Cora, as if she shared his enthusiasm.

Cherry folded her arms, chewing on a piece of gum, stewing in silence. At some point near the game's end, Cherry got up and left. Roy didn't even notice. Neither did the other men. Tracy almost thought about seeking an audience with her instead of Cora, but he didn't trust the woman. She was too desperate, and women in her line of work who had no scruples about their bodies surely wouldn't bat an eye at double crossing a U.S. Marshal. No, Cora was his best bet.

A few rounds later everyone at the table won with an explosion of cheering, much to Thorton's dismay.

The tycoon decided to quit while luck was in his favor, explaining, "My viaduct project has run into an unfortunate challenge that requires me to hire a new team of professionals. Any recommendations, Reverend?"

Grinning, Roy pointed out a man laden with muscle at a craps table.

Sujin left, taking Russ with him.

Tracy used the moment to bow out of the game and slip away.