THE HUTT GAMBI(4)

The object of sabacc was to get cards to equal, but not exceed, the number twenty-three—either positive or negative. In case of a tie, positive totals beat negatives.

At the moment the cards in Han’s hand had a numerical value of positive four. The Queen of Air and Darkness had a value of minus two. Han could throw that card into the interference field, which would “freeze” its value, then hope to get the Idiot and a card with the face value of three.

Since the Idiot had a value of zero, this would give him an “Idiot’s Array,” which would beat even a pure sabacc … that is, cards whose value added up to either positive or negative twenty-three.

As Han hesitated, gazing at his Queen, the cardchips rippled and altered.

His Queen was now the Master of sabers. The six of sabers had become the eight of flasks. His total was … positive twenty-two. He waited while the other players examined their cardchips. The Barabel, the female Devaronian, and the dealer threw in their hands disgustedly—they’d “bombed out” by exceeding twenty-three.

The Sullustan raised the bet, which Han matched and raised. “I call,” the little alien said, laying down his cardchips with a flourish.

“Twenty,” he announced.

Han grinned and put down his own. “Twenty-two,” he announced casually, laying down his own hand. “Afraid that hand pot’s mine, pal.”

The other players grumbled a bit as he scooped up their money. The Barabel female hissed and gave him a look that could have melted titanium, but said nothing.

The Sullustan took the next hand, and the Devaronian dealer the one that followed. Han eyed the growing sabacc pot, and decided to try to go for the bigger payoff.

They continued to play for several more hands. Han won the hand pot again, but nobody had gotten the sabacc pot. Han tossed the three of coins and the Idiot into the interference field, and his luck held—the very next change of cards left him holding the two of flasks.

“Idiot’s Array …” Han said casually, tossing the two down next to the other two cards in the interference field. “The sabacc pot is mine, ladies and gentlemen …”

He bent forward to scoop up the pot, and the Barabel female let out a roar. “Cheater! He’s got a skifter, he must have! No one can be so lucky!”

Han sat back and stared at her, outraged. He had cheated at sabacc plenty of times, using skifters—cards that would assume different values when their edges were tapped—and in other ways. But this time he’d won fair and square!

“You can take your accusations and stick ‘em in your ear!” the Corellian burst out indignantly. Of course the Barabel didn’t have any visible ears, but his meaning wasn’t lost on her. Dropping his right hand down to his thigh, he silently unsnapped the strap on the top of his holster. Shaking his head vehemently, he added, “I wasn’t cheating! You were just outplayed, sister!”

Left-handed, Han reached across the table, grabbed a fistful of credits, and stuffed them into his pocket. Nobody moved or spoke, so he reached for the remaining handful. In a blur of reddish fur, the Devaronian female’s hand shot out, grabbed his wrist, and pinned it to the table. “Maybe Shallamar is right,” she said, in strongly accented Basic. “We should search him to make sure.”

Han glared at her. “Take your hands off me,” he said very quietly.

“Or I’ll make you really sorry.”

Something in his eyes and voice must have impressed her, because she let go of him and stepped back.

“Coward!” Shallamar snarled at the Devaronian. “He’s just a puny human!”

The Devaronian shook her head and backed away, indicating that she wanted no further part in the conflict.

Han smiled smugly as he reached for the last of the cardchips. Seeing that smile, the Barabel roared again. One armored, sharptaloned hand came sweeping down in a mighty blow that smashed the table in two, sending board, credits, and cardchips flying. Snarling, she advanced on Han. “No!

I’m going to bite your head off, cheater! We’ll see how good you are then!”

Han took one look at her gaping maw, realizing that she was big enough to make good on her threat, and went for his blaster. His right hand dropped to his thigh with blurring speed, then the well-worn grip was there, nestled against his palm.

His hand, still moving with extraordinary speed, started back up as he began his draw–only to stop short when the blaster hung up in the holster!

Han had barely a second to realize that the blaster’s front sight, mounted on the end of the barrel, was caught at the bottom of his holster.

He tugged, trying to free his weapon.