–Okay, okay. I’ll just win lots, then.
The Doctor was visibly relieved. He turned to the dealer to give him an apologetic look that said, Sorry about this, it’s her first time, and you know what young girls are like…
The dealer managed to pull himself together long enough to flash the Doctor a brief, sympathetic smile. But his confusion remained, more palpable than ever.
Surely at this point the usual thing for her to do would be to throw caution to the wind and start betting big? And yet she was talking about whittling her stake down to a feeble dollar-a-pop! The dealer’s face started to show all this—and the fact that he just couldn’t work out what Balot was thinking.
She seemed indifferent when she was winning but got excited when she was losing. She got emotionally attached to cards—all gooey and sentimental—whether she won or lost, and it was impossible to tell what she was being sentimental about. Her conversation was all over the place, but somehow she managed to come up with all sorts of nonsensical rules and fun and games with her uncle.
Worst of all, though, she was winning—not in a big way, he didn’t think, but steadily, ominously. In all his career, he had yet to come across a customer quite so baffling and inexplicable.
The point tally displayed by Oeufcoque showed that the odds at this point were now overwhelmingly in the players’ favor, but just as Balot was about to press home her advantage, the red marker appeared. The round was brought to an end just before things started to get really interesting.
Balot took a deep breath and checked the statistics for the round. The percentages were comprehensively in their favor: averaged with the Doctor, the two of them had managed to win at a rate of well over 60 percent. Or to put it in simple terms, an initial stake of ten dollars would be, on average, increased to seventy dollars within ten hands. As far as winning streaks went, this was overwhelming.
–It’s all going to hinge on this next round. Use the shuffle to convert all your chips into ten-thousand-dollar pieces.
Oeufcoque ordered, and Balot followed. The result was an intimidatingly tall stack of high-value chips, right in front of her.
The dealer touched his earphone again to order replacement chips for the ones he had paid out. The manager replied, and the dealer quickly cut him off in a low voice. I’ll get them all back, and more. Balot intercepted the whole exchange.
Balot shrugged her shoulders. She felt exceedingly calm.
06
The dealer started his shuffle and Balot scrutinized his movements.
She could sense the intention behind his movements more clearly than ever. It was as though he were no longer concerned with keeping up appearances. As a result Balot could read the complex patterns of the cards as they flowed left and right—they shone like neon cafeteria signs in the night.
–He’s trying to manipulate the shuffle so as to force the high-value cards toward the bottom of the stack, out of our reach.
Oeufcoque understood immediately.
–Can you tell how many he’s trying to take out of play?
–As many as he can. He’s trying to make sure all the tens—including the royals—end up at the bottom of the shoe.
–In that case, we consider those cards discarded from play. Try and get as accurate a reading as you can for me so that I can adjust the count accordingly.
–Okay.
The dealer’s fingertips moved smoothly and with great accuracy. Ironically, his very skill made it all the easier for Balot to read his movements.
The Doctor was given the red marker, and he shoved it into the pile of cards haphazardly. The dealer performed another cut—a stealthy, swift movement, one much too quick for the naked eye to follow. And indeed Balot didn’t follow it, not with her eyes at least. But the Lightite skin that covered her entire body was sensitive enough to the sudden movement, and she read it like a book.
–Thirty-two cards in total. Every single one of them worth ten.
–So he’s taken two decks’ worth of tens and royals and removed them from play. What a move…
Oeufcoque seemed simultaneously impressed and blasé.
The point tally changed, dropping immediately to minus eighty. The value of the optimal stake per hand also plummeted accordingly. It was time to batten down the hatches and play defensively.
The first cards came. A 6 and 3. Small cards. Balot tried to bring to mind the sensation of what had happened when the dealer last cut the cards. Remembering, feeling which cards surrounded the clumps of ten cards before they were stealthily removed.
She looked over to the Doctor to see he had a 2 and 5. He hit twice, eventually settling on a total of seventeen, at which point he stayed. Balot also hit twice, bringing her total to nineteen.
The dealer’s upcard was a 6. The hidden card was a 2. He drew three cards, bringing his total to nineteen, meaning the Doctor lost and Balot drew, and her chips returned to her.
The next hand saw Balot with a total of twelve, and she hit. She received a 5. When would her luck change? It was all about trying to pin down the precise moment.
Balot stared at her cards, then made her mind up.
According to Oeufcoque’s tactics the right move was to stay. Yet Balot chose to hit. She received a 6. Bust. But this was no longer about the hand. There was a bigger picture.
The dealer quickly collected Balot’s spent cards. As he did so, Balot intuitively grasped the thickness of the pile of remaining cards and chose her moment carefully.
She promptly reconfirmed her bankroll, then plucked out a handful of chips as if she were wrenching them from the mountainous pile. Then she waited.
The dealer revealed his cards. He had eleven and drew a 7 to bring his total up to eighteen.
As a result the Doctor lost, and the dealer collected the Doctor’s cards too.
Balot placed her chips on the table as the dealer made his move. The clink of the chips as they landed on the table distracted the dealer for a moment, causing him to take his eyes from the discard pile. He looked somewhat stunned.
Balot ignored the dealer and turned to the Doctor.
–I have to use them up, really, it’s not fair to the chips otherwise.
The Doctor grunted and appeared to be thinking deeply, but then he announced, “Very well, then. Bring it on!” Throwing caution to the wind he placed a pile of ten-thousand-dollar chips on the table in front of him.
Up until this moment Balot and the Doctor had both been extremely cautious with their opening bets.
This was the correct tactic when counting, after all. The true count was zero at the start of a new round, so it was only prudent to start the betting low and increase their stakes only when the cards started to play in their favor. Balot and the Doctor had been doing their best to cover up the fact that they were doing just that, but even so the dealer would have surely worked out by now that they always started each new game cautiously, even if he didn’t suspect that the tactic was part of their card counting.
The dealer may have worked us out, thought Balot, but we have him worked out even better.
The dealer seemed in better spirits as he put his hand to the card shoe.
First the dealer’s upcard appeared. An 8.
Then the Doctor’s first card. A 10. Then Balot received her card. Also a 10. Then the dealer’s hidden card was dealt. Then the Doctor’s second card. Another 10. Balot’s second card came. Again, a 10.