Chapter II – The Gamblers

Mu glanced around as she turned into the narrow alley, the buildings clustering tightly around. A few other pedestrians roamed the streets, no one sparing her a glance. A waist-coated doorman stood beside an otherwise inconspicuous door. A sign by the door announced the presence of cocktails and live music.

Not knowing what else to do Mu stepped towards him.

“Good evening, madame,” he said politely.

“I’d, ah, I’d like to go in,” said Mu, not knowing what else to say.

The man seemed to observe her, smiling the whole time. Glancing around once more, Mu slipped down her hood, letting her long silken black hair spill out. She flashed him her most charming smile.

“Of course,” he said with a nod. He seemed to touch something in his pocket and the door swung in, revealing a dimly lit staircase, descending below street level. Above the stairs was a sign that simply read Silver Moon Lounge. Mu hurriedly descended the stairs, reaching a second door at the bottom, this one unattended. She slowly pushed it open.

The atmosphere hit her senses all at once. The air was redolent of cigar smoke, perfume, and alcohol. The lighting was dim. The place hummed with the melodies of Shangxia jazz, the murmur of dozens of conversations, and the clink of glasses. She took a few steps farther inside, the door closing softly behind her. A long, ornate bar stretched along one side of the room, its back wall lined with shelves laden with uncountable bottles, shining glasses suspended from racks above. At the far end of the room a stage – lit by soft lights of changing colours – was home to a band. Before them stood an elegant woman in a sleek, glittering qipao, crooning softly, her voice deep and smoky and laden with nostalgia, despite her apparent young age. Patrons were arrayed on barstools and at private booths; others formed couples, swaying on the dancefloor.

Mu made her way to the bar and took up position on a barstool. Her hood was still down and she continually glanced around. So far, though, no one had so much as spared her a glance. That in itself was odd – Mu was used to being noticed.

A bartender wandered over to her. “Can I get you a drink, madame?”

“A cocktail, please. Surprise me.”

“Certainly,” said the bartender, nodding and turned to begin work. Mu had never had a cocktail. The drinking at the Imperial Court always consisted of traditional wines and spirits. Time to try something new. Blend in.

A napkin was placed in front of her and a glass followed a moment later. The drink had a pinkish-red hue, with what looked to be a plum sitting in it. She paid and then took a sip, slowly swivelling on the bar stool to once again take in the vista of the club. She grimaced slightly as she took her sip, then returned to the drink, taking another. An acquired taste, she figured, but not wholly unpleasant.

Waitresses in tight-fitting cheongsams moved expertly amongst the tables and booths, carrying aloft trays of drinks, their high heels clicking on the scuffed wooden floor. Somewhere a man let out an uproarious laugh that pierced through the languid atmosphere momentarily before everything returned to a lazy swirl of smoke and music and shadow.

She eventually spotted what she was looking for. The gambling tables – the abode of tiles, cards, and dice. Men and women crowded around them, intensely engaged with the goings on at the tables. As Mu watched she felt something brush against her arm. Startling slightly, she swivelled to see the sensation’s source.

A man in a high-collared suit was standing there, smiling at her.

“Could I perhaps buy your next drink, madame?” he asked in a smooth tone as he leant in close, his hand lingering at her elbow.

Mu slowly sipped from her cocktail, holding his gaze as she did so. At length she replied, “I’m quite alright,” she said with a smile that never quite reached her eyes.

Swallowing, the man seemed to linger a moment, unsure, then with a slight bow of his head he vanished into the crowd.

Mu took another sip of her drink before rising to her feet. She slowly threaded her way across the bar, weaving amongst the booths, patrons, and waitresses. Reaching a table where a game of tiles had just finished up, she cleared her throat and spoke up.

“May I join?” she asked.

A bald man with a long moustache and immaculately tailored three-piece suit looked up at her from where he sat at the table. “Of course, madame,” he said, casting a sideways glance at the man standing to his side. The standing man leant down and whispered something in the bald man’s ear, then straightened back up, clasping his hands behind his back.

Mu looked around at the other occupants of the table. A woman maybe twice Mu’s age, elegantly dressed and sour-faced. An off-worlder in a crumpled white suit. He smiled roguishly when Mu momentarily met her gaze, and she quickly turned away.

“Need I explain the rules?” asked the bald man, his gaze picking out Mu.

Mu smiled obligingly, “I should be fine, thank you.”

“Excellent. If you would, Mr Lin,” he said and a man in a waistcoat and bowtie began distributing tiles. “I’m Wei Jiang. And who do we have joining us tonight? Well, Madame Chen, I of course recognise,” said the bald man, his arm indicating the older woman. She nodded in acknowledgement, but did not smile.

“Tavian Locke, at your service,” said the off-worlder in the white suit, smiling broadly once more.

“Mu,” said Mu, offering nothing further.

Mr Wei smiled. “Mr Locke, Madame Mu, a pleasure to have you with us.”

Thus, the game commenced. Bets were placed. Tiles were turned.

And Mu reached out to the Starflow.

For his part, Tavian had played a hundred games of chance on a hundred worlds and figured many of the fundamentals were the same. He observed the others for the first few rounds, playing cautiously. Once he felt confident that he had the gist of the game, he started putting some money up.

He observed the other players. Madame Chen, he figured, was a bored woman with plenty of money and nothing much to spend it on. She was disappointed with life and saw little hope of improvement. May as well fritter that money away on tiles and drinks.

The others were something else. Mr Wei was undoubtedly involved in organised crime. The mostly silent man who stood by him at all times and constantly surveyed their surroundings was undoubtedly some kind of bodyguard or lackey. A few other suited men watched them from far corners of the room. Whatever the details, Mr Wei was clearly a man used to getting what he wanted.

Don’t beat him too badly, Tavian thought to himself.

Then there was the younger woman. A beauty, no doubt, but there was more than that which caught Tavian’s eye. There was the strange cloak she wore, but at times he caught glimpses of what was under it. It wasn’t standard Shangxia eveningwear. It was the kind of traditional dress worn by the Aixin elite. Then there were mannerisms. She moved with a practiced grace, a trained elegance. And when she spoke it was with the unmistakable accent of the nobility. Imperial Standard wasn’t Tavian’s native tongue, but the accent was too obvious to be missed.

Another concubine chancing a night out on the town? No, she had a far more refined air than someone like Li Mingxia. She was high born. Tavian vaguely wondered whether she thought she was being subtle with that cloak. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who had picked her out. Mr Wei certainly had as well.

Well, after last night, no more going after girls with lofty connections, thought Tavian.

He sipped his water. No more booze, either. Not after last night. Tonight, he had to remain sharp. He’d barely escaped the Yamen this morning, having been on the run from the moment his feet touched softly down in the courtyard below Mingxia’s bedroom window. The stars may have guided him, but without a basic survival instinct he wouldn’t last.

Here at least, he was probably safe from the Governor’s security forces. Mr Wei didn’t strike Tavian as the sort of man who hung about in places full of government employees.

Tavian looked about the table at the little holographic displays next to each player. A few rounds in and Tavian was up a little, Mr Wei a lot. Madame Chen and Madame Mu were both down a little. For his part, Tavian would be happy enough coming away from the table with just a little more than he had arrived with. For now, he took in the symbols on the upturned tiles. Pausing a moment he entered his bet.

Mr Wei smiled at him. A moment later the remaining tiles were flipped by Mr Lin and the displays shifted. Mr Wei’s winnings increased. Tavian’s took a hit, whilst Madame Chen edged into positive territory. Mu’s remained static in slightly negative territory.

“Not to worry, Mr Locke,” said Mr Wei. “You are doing well for someone new to the tiles.”

“How did you know?” asked Tavian.

“Just a hunch,” said Mr Wei.

New tiles were distributed. It was in that moment that he saw something like the flicker of a smile dart across Mu’s face. Mu caught him looking at her, their eyes meeting briefly. Her face went blank again and she looked away.

This time, once bets were entered and the last of the tiles were turned, the numbers shifted considerably. Madame Chen was back in the negative, now joined in that territory by Tavian. But more notably, Mr Wei’s winnings were halved and Mu’s suddenly leapt into positive territory.

Madame Chen scowled at Mu.

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“Well, well, brains, not just beauty, Madame Mu,” said Mr Wei.

Tavian looked at her, but her face was expressionless now. There was something about that smile before…

Things took an unexpected turn from there. Round after round every other player’s winnings began diminishing, whilst Mu’s became ever larger. Finally came a moment when with a sound of disgust Madame Chen abruptly quit, signing over her losses. She was gone in a flash. Mr Wei tapped the man standing beside him who leant in. They had a brief whispered exchange. Tavian looked at his numbers. He was down more than he could rightly afford. Meanwhile, Mu’s expressionless face had gained a great deal more life. Tavian recognised the look now on her face for what it was: smugness.

Mr Wei let out a sigh. “Well, I think I may have to follow Madame Chen’s example. A wise man knows when he has lost.” His words were calm, but his tone and his expression suggested more than a little frustration. He nodded to Tavian and Mu. “I’ll take my leave.”

With that he stood and walked away, the other man following with him. Mr Lin looked Tavian’s way expectantly. Tavian threw up his hands. “Who am I to think I can do any better than such veterans. I believe I, too, must concede.”

Mu flashed him a victorious grin. “Not one more round?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Tavian. Leaning closer to her, he said, “I don’t know how you did it, but you have us all beat.”

With that he signed over his losses and closed out the game.

Walking away, Tavian heard Mr Lin say, “Congratulations, Madame Mu.”

Unsure what to do next, Mu wandered back to the bar. She found the bartender who had served her earlier.

“Another of… those… things… from before,” she said.

“Right way,” said the bartender. When he returned with her drink and placed it in front of her, he spoke again, “The tables treat you well?”

Mu sipped her drink. “Very well.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Madame.”

Mu was sitting there, taking in the music and contemplating whether or not to try another table when she felt something brush up against her arm. Turning, half expecting to see the man from earlier back for another try, she instead found herself face to face with Tavian Locke.

“Oh,” she said, “It’s you.”

Tavian laughed. “Is that anyway to speak to someone who just donated you a whole lot of money?”

Mu smirked. “You seem like a proud man, Mr Locke. I hope I didn’t wound you too severely.”

“I’ve had worse,” he said.

Mu observed him a moment as he leant across the bar, attempting to flag down a bartender. It was in that moment that she realised he was the man who had passed her in the street earlier that day, running from the authorities.

“Is that why you’re on the run?” she asked.

He looked back at her, his face registering surprise. “Ah,” he said, “No. That… that was for other reasons. Have… have we met before?”

“You passed me in the street earlier. You appeared a little preoccupied.”

“Right,” said Tavian. The bartender had come over to him and he ordered another glass of water.

“Going hard tonight, I see,” said Mu.

“Going hard is what got me chased down the street,” replied Tavian.

“You do have some caution.”

“I do,” he said, nodding and then sipping his water. “How about you? What you did back at that table wasn’t all that cautious, was it?”

“I’m not the one who lost money.”

“No,” Tavian conceded, “But sometimes losing is the more cautious approach.”

Mu grinned, “I’m sure that’s reassuring to tell yourself.”

Tavian pointed in the general direction of the gambling tables. “Mr Wei back there doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who takes well to losing money.”

“I’m sure he’ll live,” said Mu.

“I hope you do,” said Tavian.

“Are you threatening me?” asked Mu, outrage creeping into her voice.

“Me? No. But him? I’d be careful, if I were you. In fact, instead of sitting here and chatting with me, I’d be thinking about making myself scarce, if I were you.”

Mu sipped her drink, in part to give herself a moment to think. “I’ll be fine.”

Tavian leant closer to her. She leant back slightly in reaction.

He spoke softly, “I know you cheated back there. I don’t know how. But I know you did. And if I know that, I can guarantee Mr Wei does as well. It’s not just how he reacts to losing money, you need to worry about. It’s how he reacts to being cheated out of it.”

Mu did her best to look indignant. “I won fair and square!” she insisted.

“Look, I don’t care about my money. Well… I do, but whatever. Take it. It’s yours. Congratulations. But I don’t think Mr Wei will be as obliging. You’re not from around here—”

“And you are?” snapped Mu.

“I know the streets,” said Tavian, “And I know Mr Wei’s type. I’m not sure you do. Don’t be too proud to take my advice.”

Mu paused legitimately this time, her drink halfway to her mouth. She considered what he was saying.

Seizing the moment, Tavian spoke again. “Come with me. I’ll escort you out. We’ll disappear in the streets. Then we can go our separate ways.”

A suspicion struck Mu. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t. But I think you realise what I said about Mr Wei is right. I trust you of all people know which is the sensible gamble here.”

Mu ran her index finger along her lips as she thought.

“Fine,” she said. She threw back the remains of her drink and grimaced. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s not rush,” said Tavian. “Just calmly head for the exit.”

Tavian rose from his barstool first. Mu followed close behind. They began walking towards the door. Mu glanced around the room. She noticed two men in suits at the far end of the bar had risen to their feet and were slowly walking in the same direction as her and Tavian.

Without turning to face her, Tavian spoke softly, so that she could only just hear him over the noise of the club. “When we get out the front door, we may need to move quickly.”

Mu nodded, though Tavian wouldn’t have been able to see the gesture. Off to one side she noticed too more men moving quite obviously in their direction. “I think you might be onto something,” she said to Tavian.

“Just keep moving,” he said.

Slipping amongst the patrons, they reached the lower door. There was a cabinet beside the door and Tavian leant to open it. From within he pulled something. Mu realised in a moment it was the instrument case she had seen him carrying when he ran into her on the street.

“You got a gun in there?” she asked.

“No,” he said, though offered no further explanation, pushing open the door. “Quickly. No point in trying to be subtle now.”

With that they both took the stairs at a half-run. Reaching the top, Tavian hit a button by the side of the door and it swung open.

“Thank you, good sir,” said Tavian to the doormen as they darted past.

Mu pulled her hood back up. “Where now?”

“Somewhere busier is probably best,” said Tavian.

“Won’t the authorities be on the lookout for you somewhere busier?” asked Mu as the two of them reached the corner of the alley the Club was on.

“I think someone’s on the lookout for me just about everywhere now,” replied Tavian.

At that very moment four men in dark suits stepped out of the shadows ahead of them. More footsteps behind them signalled that the men from the club weren’t far behind.

“Well, shit,” said Tavian, coming to a stop, sticking his arm out, to signal to Mu to stop also.

Mu looked around. Sure enough four other men were now strolling up behind them. “Think they’ll talk?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t count on it,” said Tavian. “Don’t suppose you know how to fight?”

“I do alright,” said Mu.

Tavian looked at her, surprise on his face. “Really?”

“Really,” affirmed Mu, her hand sliding under her cloak.

One of the men in front of them stepped forward. “Mr Wei doesn’t like cheaters,” he announced, his hand reaching under his jacket to reveal a sword at his waist.

Mu was about to protest, but Tavian held out his hand. “I wouldn’t bother arguing,” he said, seemingly sensing what was coming.

“So, it’s going to be a fight then,” Tavian continued, louder.

“That’s up to you,” said the lead thug, drawing his sword. At this the other men all drew their own weapons.

Mu closed her eyes as the fingers of her concealed hand wrapped around the hilt at her waist. The Starflow came as reliably as ever. She watched as the first man stepped forward, his sword raised in a powerful, but slow overhead strike. Tavian deftly manoeuvred aside and the man finished up next to Mu.

Mu opened her eyes. Everyone was unmoved.

“Alright,” she said.

A moment later the lead thug stepped forward, blade arcing up overhead. No sooner had he finished than Mu’s blade emerged in a flash from its sheath, travelling through a wide horizontal arc. Everything seemed to freeze for a moment and then the man took one slow step forward before he keeled over, blood erupting from a gaping hole in his side. Mu cast her cloak off and brought her sword around into a guard position, both hands now on the hilt.

Then chaos erupted.

Two men came from behind, but Tavian was quick. He moved with carefully practiced speed and efficiency, shockingly agile. In a moment he was now behind those men and the case was unslung from his back, swinging around and catching one man across the back of his head. The other man had not yet fully turned when a spinning kick from Tavian sent him sprawling sideways.

Mu let the Starflow go directly to her blade. She reacted to the attackers before they even moved. Another man caught her blade to the neck. There it lodged a moment and though she could feel the next attack coming, she couldn’t extricate herself quickly enough. Tavian’s case though caught the attacker approaching her and a moment later she had pulled the sword free in a spray of blood and viscera.

A few more moments and it was over. Three men lay dead, the others staggered or crawled away.

Tavian turned to Mu.

“Wow,” he said.

She was silent a moment, then her sword clattered to the ground. Her hands reached up to cup her face. “Oh no…” she muttered.

“Oh no?” asked Tavian, walking towards her.

Mu was breathing heavily.

Tavian gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head. Then she lowered her hands, turning two watery eyes towards Tavian, his image blurry. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”

Tavian looked around the scene. “Maybe they’re faking?” he said, even as he pulled back the toe of his shoe from the expanding pool of blood on the ground. “I gotta say, that was unexpected.”

Mu clenched her fists by her side, looked to the sky and breathed in deeply. She wiped away the tears, then bent to pick up her sword. She strolled over to one of the downed men and drew the sword along his jacket, both sides. Inspecting the blade she sheathed it again. Still trembling she turned to a silently waiting Tavian.

“I’ve been trained,” she said.

“I’ll say,” said Tavian. “Who exactly are you?”

Mu looked him in the eyes again, considering carefully her next words. Satisfying the debate in her head she nodded slowly.

“My name is Aixin Mukushen of the Mukta Clan, Princess of the White Horse Banner.”

Tavian was speechless.

“Until six weeks ago I was betrothed to the future Emperor of Aixingo. Now… now I don’t know.”

She paused another moment.

“What I do know, is that what’s following me is far more dangerous than these thugs. You may want to part ways with me before anyone connects you to me.”

Tavian laughed, shaking his head. “My dear, until just now I thought I was probably the most wanted person on this planet. But even if I’m only number two, I still think we may share a goal.”

“To get off-world,” said Mu.

“To get-off world,” confirmed Tavian. “I think we just discovered that we make a good team. So why don’t we cooperate?”

“I don’t think you understand who’s pursuing me,” said Mu.

“I can guess. And I’m not keen to meet them. But let’s work on not meeting them together. What do you say?” said Tavian, extending a hand.

Shakily Mu extended her hand, grasping his. They shook and she withdrew. “Alright,” she said. “I have transport organised – a STOC to the Orbital Ring.”

“That’s a start,” said Tavian.

“But, um, I’m supposed to wait for a sign,” said Mu.

Tavian looked at her quizzically. “A sign?”

“It’s hard to explain,” said Mu, her mind spinning as she wondered how to convey Bright Eyes’ cryptic directions in a way that would make sense.

However, even as she stood there, contemplating, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. Spinning, her hand instinctively went back to her sword’s hilt. But she saw no one.

“I think I can help with that sign,” announced a smooth and refined voice.

Mu was struggling to work out where the voice was coming from when she saw a wide-eyed Tavian standing with an outstretched finger pointing into the shadows. She looked the way he was pointing.

A black cat wearing a red bow-tie strolled into the light.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” announced the cat, “But I think Mr Bright Eyes might have wanted you to wait for me.”

Mu didn’t know what to say. Beside her Tavian was silent.

“My name is Apollo, and I think I can help you get off world.”