"Ann Maxwell - Fire Dancer 1 - Fire Dancer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maxwell Ann)

numbers and computer-induced chance. On the first, or entry, level of the seven-level ziggurat,
the money involved was modest The bets doubled automatically as each step of the ziggurat was
ascended. A bet of 100 credits on the entry level meant a bet of 200 credits on the second level,
400 on the third, and so on up to the kingseat, where the equivalent bet was 6,400 credits.

The base of the crystal ziggurat had no openings for new players in this cycle. Nor did the second
level. There was one opening at the fourth level, but she could not afford the ante, much less the
play. Jal, in the kingseat, collected one-half of every pot above the third level. He would not be
leaving such a lucrative position soon. She would have to make an opening on the lowest level
and dislodge him from the kingseat.

A walk around the ziggurat gave Rheba her quarry. The man was drugged-out and had less than
fifty credits on his computer. She eased her way through the crowd until she was close to him.
Her fingers wove discreetly, her hair stirred, and the man began to sweat like fat in a frying pan.
After a few moments, he stood up abruptly and plunged into the crowd, headed for the cooler air
of Nontondondo’s frenzied streets.

Rheba slid into the hot seat before anyone else could. She punched her code into the computer.
Her OVA dropped by ten credits, ante for a single round.
She watched the center of the crystal ziggurat where colors, shapes and groupings shifted in
response to energy pulses from each player’s computer. She bet only enough to keep her seat
while she sorted out the various energies permeating the ziggurat. The pulses were so minute that
grasping them was difficult. She was accustomed to working with much stronger forces.

The game’s markers—the colored shapes—were composed of energy, making telekinesis an
unlikely, if not an impossible, form of cheating. The computer could probably be bribed, but it
would take more time and credits than Rheba had to find out. Several of the players at various
levels were in illegal collusion, setting up complex resonances that could only be defeated by
chance or the end of the cycle. At least one player was an illusion. She could not determine which
player was projecting the illusion, or why.

After several rounds of play, one of the many collusions was challenged and broken up. She
began to feel more at ease with the tiny currents that created the colored markers. Slowly,
discreetly, while credits flowed out of her OVA, she began to manipulate the game’s markers,
using a fire dancer’s intuitive grasp of energy rather than her own computer.

It was a difficult way to cheat. Intense concentration made the swirling patterns on her hands
burn and itch. Slowly, a red triangle changed to green, upsetting a fifth-level player’s program
and costing him 10,000 credits. The man swore at his bad luck and switched from building fives
of green triangles matched with reds to building threes of yellow squares balanced on greens.

No one but the computer noticed that Rheba was several hundred credits richer for the man’s
misfortune. Rubbing the backs of her hands, she studied the shifting markers, placed her bet,
programmed her computer, and went to work with her mind, shortening wavelengths of energy,
shifting red to blue.

It was easier this time. Within minutes a red triangle blinked and was reborn as blue. The victim
was a fourth-level woman. She stared around with harsh white eyes, as though she sensed that
cheating rather than chance had unraveled her careful program.