The dealer ostentatiously opened a fresh pack of card-chips and riffled them, then triggered the randomizer several times, thus demonstrating that nobody could predict the order the card-chips would be dealt.
After this initial demonstration, the randomizer itself altered the values of the card-chips at random intervals.
Han looked over at Lando, and was cheered to note that his friend was showing signs of strain. Lando’s natty outfit was creased, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair looked as though it hadn’t been combed all day.
Han knew he was no prize himself. He rubbed his hand blearily across his face, and only then realized he’d forgotten to shave. Stubble rasped his fingernails.
Forcing himself to sit up straight, Han picked up his first hand of card-chips ….
Three and a half hours later, the Bothan and the Rodian had been eliminated. They’d left without a backward glance. The Bothan male had “bombed out”—bet his entire trove of credit-chips on the game.
When Lando took that hand, the alien had stalked away without a farewell. The Rodian female had folded, but she hadn’t bombed. Han figured that she’d decided to cut her losses and get out while she still had a profit. The stakes were getting very high. The sabacc pot alone contained nearly twenty thousand credits.
Han’s luck had held. He had enough credit-chips to cover any of the bets he’d seen tonight. Mentally, he added them up. If he folded now, he’d leave Bespin with twenty-thousand credits give or take a couple hundred.
His eyesight was getting blurry, and card-chips were hard to count when they were in stacks.
The Corellian considered. Twenty-thousand was a lot of money. Almost enough to buy a ship of his own. Should he fold? Or should he stay in?
The ChadraFan raised the bet another five thousand. Han covered it.
So did Lando, but it took nearly all his credit chips Han assessed his hand. He had the card-chip for Endurance, which had the value of negative eight. Appropriate, Han thought. This battle is becoming one of endurance …. He also had the Ace of Staves, with a value of positive fifteen. And the six of flasks. Value, positive six.
Thirteen. He needed to take another card, and hope that he didn’t get a ranked card, which would put him out of the game. “I’ll take a card,” Han said, The dealer tossed one down on the table. Han picked it up, saw with a sinking feeling that it was Demise, which was negative thirteen. Great!
I’m farther away than ever!
And then the cards rippled and changed before his eyes ….
Han now had the Queen of Air and Darkness, with a value of negative two, plus the five of coins, the six of staves, and the Master of coins, with a value of fourteen. Total value … twenty-three. His heart leaped. Pure sabacc!
With this hand, he could take both the hand pot and the sabacc pot ˇ .
. to win the tournament.
There was only one hand that could beat him, and that was an idiot’s array.
Han took a deep breath, then pushed forward all but one of his stacks of credit-chips. For a moment he considered tossing all his cards into the interference field, but then his opponents would know for sure he wasn’t bluffing. He needed them to cover his bet if he was going to clean up.
Hold steady, he thought to his card-chips, willing the randomizer not to change the patterns. Honest randomizers truly were random.
Sometimes they changed card-chip patterns multiple times per game.
Other times, they did so only once or twice. Han figured the odds for his ccard chips changing within the next three minutes—the average time for a round of betting with this many players—were about 5050.
Han kept his features composed, his body relaxed, with an effort of will that was nearly painful. He had to make them think he might be bluffing!
On Han’s right, the little ChadraFan’s huge ears flickered rapidly back and forth, then he (Han had learned that he was male during the hours of play) uttered the faintest of squeaks. Deliberately, precisely, the alien folded his card-chips and placed them on the table, then got up and walked away.
Han stared at his card-chips. Hold… hold! His pulse was hammering, and he hoped Lando couldn’t see it.
The professional gambler hesitated for a long second, then requested a card. Han’s blood rushed in his ears as, slowly and deliberately, Calrissian extended a hand, and placed a card-chip facedown into the interference field.
Han stiffened. He’d caught just a glimpse of the primary color of the card-chip reflected against the faint ionization of the field. Violet.
If Han’s bleary eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, that meant the card chip was the Idiot. The most vital card in the Idiot’s Array.
Han tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. Lando is an expert at this, he thought. He could have put that card down in just that manner, knowing I’d see its telltale color, and guess that he’s holding the Idiot.