Busted Flush Page 0,69

hefty little bonus."

"Yeah, so's you can afford all the child support!"

"You get paid extra to screw her?"

"Of course, retard. Would you do it for free?"

Far on the other side of the complex, Niobe cried.

"I would if she looked like Curveball. Shit, I'd pay to screw her. Yeah, I would wreck that girl. I'll bet half the guys on the Committee are bangin' her."

"The way I hear it, Tom, you got no choice but to pay for it." More laughter all around the table at this.

"This season's better. Green chick? Talk about hot."

"I like that acrobat, Minx. Now she's bangable." Tom leered. "And I'll bet she's freaky in the sack, too."

Smitty laughed again. "Could you imagine Genetrix on American Hero? Fucking before each challenge? Her teammates would have to draw straws." Pham pounded the table with his fist, laughing.

Christian took a deck of cards from the table. "Okay, so we got a deuce girl" - Christian removed the deuces of hearts and diamonds and set them in the center of the table, faceup - "a joker boy" - he added a joker to the deuces - "and an ace girl" - the aces of hearts and diamonds went into the mix. "Someone do the honors."

Mom? What are they doing?

Niobe didn't say anything. Even Zoe had fallen silent. Zane's mantle faded to gray.

Pham flipped a coin. Christian added the deuce of hearts back to his deck. They repeated the process, and the ace of diamonds went back.

After shuffling and letting Tom cut, Christian dealt four cards to each player.

"Okay, gents. Ante up."

Niobe gasped. They're gambling, Zenobia. They're gambling on you and Zane and Zoe.

A little salad of green bills accumulated in the center of the table. It grew as bets and raises and calls swirled around the table.

"Fifty bucks says the octopus croaks first."

A pang of terror and anguish through the bond. Niobe stroked Zane's head. His mantle turned ink black. "Shhh, shhh. Don't listen to them. They don't know what they're talking about."

Back at the game, Pham said, "I'll take that action." He dropped a few bills on the table. "Bet the octopus outlasts the chubby kid Justice brought in a few weeks ago."

Drake . . . ? A cold, sickly feeling took root in Niobe's gut. Why would they say that?

Zen, that's enough. C'mon back now.

I'll get him! I'll drift right into his body and -

No. Leave him alone. That goes for all three of you.

Zane ruffled his tentacles. His sisters nodded.

I need to think for a while.

He was asleep the next time they came for him, although the dreams kept him from sleeping very well. Drake didn't really know if it was day or night. There was no clock in his room and he'd watched all the DVDs, some more than once.

Drake could barely feel his feet on the floor as they shuffled him down the hall in the direction of the interrogation room; Justice seemed to be lifting him more than guiding him. Once there, it was going to be more of the same stupid questions and he really couldn't tell them anything.

Smitty and Dr. Pendergast were waiting for them inside the interrogation room. There was someone else, a woman who was about the same age as his teachers back at school. Her dark hair was pulled back and her eyes darted around the room like a fish in an aquarium. Drake flopped heavily into the empty chair and put his head onto the desktop. "Please let me leave. I can't help you." He closed his eyes, hoping it would all just go away.

"We're going to try something different this time, Drake," Smitty said, in his flat but somehow scary voice. "Something to help you remember. Your file from BAMC indicates a reaction to a particular type of sedative. Dr. Carlisle will be sitting next to you while you're under. She has the ability to see into your mind somewhat and will share that with us."

Dr. Carlisle pulled up a chair next to him. Pendergast moved around the table and stood by Drake's other side, a hypodermic in one hand. He grabbed Drake firmly by the shoulder, and before the boy could struggle had the needle into him.

"You may feel a little uncomfortable for a moment," the doctor said, "but . . ."

The rest of the sentence was a hopeless garble to Drake, like someone was speaking a foreign language to him from inside a well. The room tipped and rolled beneath him. The light over