The Tartarus Directive

Chapter 9

Périer's casino was the most popular spot on C level for residents from A and B levels. It was also the only place where well-off residents could waste their extra credits without getting anything in return except a rush of endorphins. The residents who went to the casino in search of fortune rarely ever left better-off than they were before, and frequently lost more than they could afford to lose. Then, that's gambling.

The casino was a spectacle of excess. All those gambling facilities, especially machines, used vital components which might otherwise be better used to improve residents' lives rather than simply deplete their credit cartridges.

Griff arrived at the casino just before opening. The wait staff and hosts and croupiers all went about their final preparations paying no regard to Griff's presence. The casino had been established in a larger section of the C level commons with partitions fabricated to separate it from the other establishments there. The place was decorated with geometric furniture and wall coverings in black and gray. It had all the sophistication of a restroom designed by Le Corbusier.

He spotted the casino's proprietor, Yves Périer, speaking rapidly with a croupier behind the bar. He was a slim man of just over forty with a deeply-creased, angular face, and black hair cropped short and slicked back to a patent shine. He wore a black tunic with the collar undone and ironed flat, a blued white shirt buttoned-up underneath, and matching tapered black trousers with ankle boots that matched his hair. A smoldering Kratom bobbed up and down between his lips as he talked.

Périer caught Griff out of the corner of his eye and dismissed the croupier with a slap on the back before coming over to greet Griff.

"What can I do for you Monsieur Markham? Official business or are you here to try your luck?" Périer said with a smirk.

"Official business, but not SecServ business."

"Is there any other kind?"

Périer's upper eyelids drooped halfway over his eyes, giving him a perpetually aloof look.

"You have a hostess working here named Svetlana Chaadaeva? Goes by Sveta?"

"Oui, I do. Is she in some kind of trouble? I assure you I have permits for all my employees. This casino is strictly on the level."

"I'm sure it is Mr. Périer, but I'm not here looking into workplace violations. Is she here? I'd like to have a word with her."

"She is, but I do not make a habit of letting my employees speak to the police without first knowing what the trouble is. It could hurt my business--scare away patrons--if I had the gendarmerie sniffing around, oui?"

"It's about Krysalis."

"Non, Monsieur Markham." He raised his hand as if to stop Griff from speaking further. "Sveta is a good girl, eh? Une bonne fille. She has been off that junk for months."

"You running a rehab now?"

"Non, I have other reasons." He waved his hand through the air, dismissing Griff's question.

"Fine, but I need to speak to her anyway.

"Bien sûr, I do not think she remembers much of anything from those days, but you are welcome to try."

"Thanks."

Périer snapped his fingers and a host came over right away. He told the host to fetch Sveta and bring her here.

"Have a seat, Monsieur Markham." He indicated a nearby table. "Something to drink?"

"Sure. Hyperion cocktail," Griff said taking a seat.

Périer snapped his fingers again to get the attention of the bartender and repeated Griff's order. The drink was brought out promptly by the bartender and Périer disappeared into the back.