>>1784511On the way out of the spaceport you hear two young tourists complaining about the search. It sounds like they're using robots now, to spare you the indignity of having to get nude in front of a human. You bet they're still recording it, though. You shudder. You could never go through with something like that. You'd feel so vulnerable.
You catch a taxi through the wide highway tunnels to the casino, your electronic lockpick comfortably in the pocket of your jeans. The driver talks your ear off all the way. Seems he's got a problem with gaijins, came here to get away from them. Cabbies are the same everywhere.
The casino's a sight. The main floor's above ground, a big glass dome with views of the lunar surface in every direction. Punters tug mindlessly at slot machines, thousands of them, arrayed in concentric circles round a big centre dais, a stage which is currently empty. Passages lead away to VIP rooms and the adjacent hotel. You yank the arm of a slot machine, just to see what happens, and a holographic display lights up the room. Virtual fireworks, dragons winding in and out. You've won! There's a cascade of chips from the hopper. Just for show, of course. The display on the machine is telling you that three thousand New Yen have just been transferred to your LunaTokyo credit account, which is nice, since you only had about twenty. von Brandt's trying to get you more money, but the needlessly byzantine Lunar banking regulations are making it difficult. She'd promised you a line of credit by tomorrow. You were going to stay in a capsule hotel tonight, little more than a person-sized hole in the rock, but now you can afford a whole room.
And you didn't even put any money in the machine. Interesting.
