The free drink from the Space Station casino didn’t cheer Archie up.
It was only fair, you couldn’t ask a man who’d just lost his house to buy his own drink. Not while sat on velvet barstools basking in the soft glow of candle chandeliers.
The bartender coughed. “That one’s gratis, but anymore you’re buying.”
Archie sighed, apparently you could ask. Although they could ask all they wanted, he didn’t have anything left other than the suit he wore. And the sign read, ‘No shirt, No shoes, No service’.
He did his best to savour the free beer, while regretting not ordering a top-shelf whisky instead.
§
After he finished it, and avoided the waiter eying for a tip, he made his way back to the cabin.
Karas was a metal city floating in the middle of the galaxy’s main throughways. Her restaurants employed celebrity chefs and her casinos boasted the biggest pay-outs. She was a beacon for pleasure-seekers, thrill-seekers and high society all under one titanium roof.
Archie fell under none of those descriptions. He had merely followed his angelic wife to her big break, then celebrated by losing the house on a sure thing. A sure thing.
Now he had to walk along the sleek, metal bulkheads to explain to his wife what he had done. On the way he passed happy, normal people who would never understand what drove Archie to such lows.
Jenny was relaxing in the cabin, as relaxed as anyone could be in five-inch heels and a cocktail dress with glittering scales like a scarlet fish. “Did you hear the news?”
“About the asteroid?” asked Archie hopefully.
“No-one cares about that.” Jenny waved a hand like near-miss asteroids were old hat. “Some moron bet £200k on Celtic to win at two goals up with five minutes left. Ended up drawing.”
“They must be devastated.”
“What kind of idiot bets away their life on that?”
Archie couldn't tell her. He couldn’t explain the primal rush as a bet came in. He’d sell his left foot to get another hit even now.
“I’m going for drinks at the casino before I sing. Fancy joining?”
“Never liked casinos.”
“I've never seen you near one.”
“And you never will,” said Archie. Anything to stop her from seeing his awful degeneracy.
“Alright, I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.” Jenny leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Are you coming to my set?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Archie smiled at old memories and ones to be made. Jenny sang as sweetly as a nightingale. Her siren song had drawn him to her all those years ago.
“I’ll see you later.”
Jenny left Archie in their room, her room really. His small suitcase sat in the corner, but the room was filled with her. Little velvet pillows, satin dresses, trinkets on the metal dresser and a case of costume jewellery.
Jenny dressed ostentatiously for the stage, said it was what people expected. Her collection consisted of authentic high-quality fakes produced on Mars.
Aside from the necklace, which cradled an emerald the size of a goose egg. Jenny’s grandmother had left it to her, and she only wore it for the grand finale on the last day of her bookings.
Which meant she didn’t need it for a week. She wouldn’t even notice its absence. Archie stared at the green stone reflecting the pale electric light.
He only needed it for an hour to win the house back. He didn’t want Jenny to be homeless when they returned to Earth. Hell, if it went well, he could treat her to lobster, caviar and Martian champagne until they left.
§
Normally, Archie ignored flashy games like poker and roulette. He preferred sports, where he could read up on the teams and place informed, intelligent bets.
But if he waited too long, their former house would be sold on. So, he traded the necklace for half its value at the casino pawn shop, then sat down on the poker table to lose a chain-link’s worth on the first hand.
It didn’t matter, he told himself. Just a bigger high when he won.
But one bad hand turned into three, and three into ten, until finally, he was all-in with a pair of queens and an unforgiving bluff.
It had taken just thirty minutes to lose an irreplaceable necklace.
This time when the waiter asked, Archie requested the priciest whisky they had. The peaty burn was both the best, and the worst, drink of Archie’s life.
Afterwards, he went straight to bed. He didn’t want to see Jenny, and he had no money for anything else. So, he sat under the covers and sobbed.
The alarm sounded before Archie fell asleep. The entire cabin flashed red, and the speakers screamed, “Abandon ship, hull breach.”
Archie staggered through now-crowded corridors, ignoring the people screaming about asteroids, going to his designated pod. As he ran, he screamed Jenny’s name, again and again.
She appeared as if from a mist. Their arms threaded around each other in a hug as comforting as a warm cup of tea. Despite the issues, Archie sagged in relief. She was here, they could go, and best of all, it could cover up the necklace.
The pods filled quickly, the lines unexpectedly civilized. Archie grabbed her hand to start queuing, but Jenny didn’t budge. “My necklace. I can’t leave it, but it’s too risky.”
“I’ll get it,” said Archie without hesitation.
“You can't bet on a million-to-one chance,” said Jenny.
Archie pushed her towards the escape pods and set off the other way, unable to help himself. He called over his shoulder, “Take a chance on me,” but his mind was more on the odds than her.
As he shoved through confused passengers flowing towards the pods, he noted it was a true win-win. Either his luck turned, and he found the necklace in the casino strong room. Or he died and she’d never know his true self.
Rick Danforth
resides in Yorkshire, England, where he works as a Systems Architect to
fund his writing habit. He’s had several short stories published in a
variety of venues, including Hexagon and Translunar Traveler's Lounge.
His story “Seller’s Remorse” was shortlisted for the 2022 British
Science Fiction Association (BSFA) Award for Short Fiction. His most
recent appearances in Stupefying Stories have been “Patient Diplomacy,” “Thanks for the Memory,” and “Purest Distilled Spirit.”
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