Chapter Text
One new message received. Sender: Dr Ratio.
“Great. What does he want this time? Another academic competition, or…”
‘Caelus. I would value your assistance with a personal matter.’
Caelus frowns at his phone, and then replies. ‘A personal matter? I did not realise I could assist the Professor with personal matters.’
A pause. Then, typing. ‘It concerns a mutual gambling acquaintance.’
More typing. ‘And time is rather of the essence.’
More typing. ‘This is the address of where you will meet me.’
Caelus stares at the audacity, as the icon showing Ratio as online shifts to grey.
“Why is he enlisting me to help with Aventurine? He does not even know if I am available, or whether I am free to help, or whether I would want —”
“Good. You are only five seconds late.”
“…You did not specify a time!” Caelus folds his arms over his jacket, “I came as soon as I could!”
“I am aware.” Ratio is dressed in attire that the Trailblazer has not seen before - gone are the rather statement robes, with a crisp suit of navy and white with a purple flash across his lapel in their place. “You took a wrong turn at the end of the fourth street. It is a common mistake.”
Caelus clears his throat, wills himself for patience, and then straightens. “What has Aventurine done now, and why do you need my help specifically?”
“The gambler —” Ratio reaches into his breast pocket, “has clearly riled the wrong people and is now languishing in a casino.”
“…is that…not…normal for Aventurine…”
“Not when he is being offered as the ‘grand prize’, no.” Ratio hands a dark piece of card to Caelus, who turns it over to read.
Poker Tournament. Grand prize: the last remaining Agvin - in mostly excellent condition. Raise the stakes, and play well!
The note is addressed to Professor Veritas Ratio.
“…what does ‘mostly excellent’ condition mean?”
Ratio does not answer him, which Caelus would usually view as dismissal if - when he glances to the good doctor’s face - the expression was not something exceptionally resolute. “The tournament is tonight. I should like you to accompany me.”
“Wait, wait - I am not very good at poker - “
“That is not my concern. Aventurine refers to you as a ‘friend’. This is rare.”
Caelus feels something warm and -
“You were also several star systems closer than the cowboy and the knight. Therefore, you can assist.”
“Ah.” Caelus looks at the scuff on his trainers, before, “Right you are, Dr Ratio! To the tournament - I am sure my baseball bat speaks far louder than casino etiquette.”
A raise of one eyebrow. “You will not be entering like that. It is a very formal event.”
Which is precisely how Caelus ends up buying a very formal suit.
“Is this casino outside their jurisdiction? It seems a very central location.”
“I imagine a blind eye is turned.”
“And you don’t know who invited you?”
“Not yet.”
“Must be someone with a grudge against Aventurine - I hope he is all right.”
Ratio offers only a sound of acknowledgement as they cross the busy street and approach the numbered door that matches the invitation. Two bouncers - or perhaps Caelus should think of them as doormen - look to him, rather than Ratio.
“My financial advisor.” Ratio says, as if this was entirely obvious.
Caelus looks at him, “Your — ?!”
“This is a gambling establishment, correct? With a tournament?” Ratio continues, to the doormen. “I require an up to date assessment of my finances. This is simply beneath me, and therefore I have him.” A gesture of his hand, to Caelus. “He meets the criteria; methodical, mostly silent and exceptionally dull in conversation.”
Caelus blinks at Ratio, and then looks at the doormen. “….”
“You see?” Ratio looks to the door, “I would prefer not to be kept waiting - this is already an unnecessary infringement upon my research.”
“…I am not exceptionally dull.” Caelus says, the moment it is just the two of them - and the guiding two-wheeled robot that they are following.
“It appears you are also not mostly silent. One out of three is…passable, I suppose, for a disguise.” Ratio steps past the robot as it comes to a halt. “Do not do anything needlessly hasty.”
Caelus rests his hand on his hip. “Define needlessly. And…and hasty, actually.”
Ratio does not, as they enter the gambling hall.
Caelus’ first impression is impressive. There is lavishness everywhere and it takes three separate moments of wide eyed staring for him to take it all in - the colours, and the lights, and furniture, and now he is grateful for the attire - because formal event seems something of an understatement.
In the centre of the room is a structure clad in a burgundy velvet shroud, and an oval table with the deepest, deepest of navy blues its baize covering. Four empty chairs, and a smartly dressed Intellitron along the flat edge, deck of cards neatly placed before their elegant hands. The rest of the room appears to be for spectating - and many are - different attires, different factions - sat with drinks and small plates. They do not seem particularly interested in Caelus.
“Dr. Veritas Ratio. I received this invitation.”
Caelus crosses back to Ratio, who has addressed the dealer.
“Mr Ratio.” The dealer responds. “Your starting funds. A gift, from the House.”
A black lacquer box is passed to Ratio, while Caelus contemplates whether this removes him of the role of financial advisor and whether he can try something altogether more violent, as they cannot see Aventurine. He looks once more around the gambling hall - eyes returning to the strange central structure - before something more familiar catches his immediate attention. “That — !”
Ratio lifts the largest chip from the box, where it had been placed among others in the velvet, and examines it.
Black, and gold.
Not just black, and gold.
Copper. Ruby.
Caelus straightens, “That chip does not belong to us —” He says to the dealer, as Ratio continues to inspect it.
“It is part of the starting funds for Mr Veritas Ratio. A gift, from the House.” The dealer replies, impassively professional.
“But it does not have any —”
“Two million credits.” Ratio states. “Out of a total of fifteen million.” He does not give the chip to Caelus, but he shows him the reverse side - where it has been altered, metal plated, stamped in neat, uniform print - the number. “They have valued him at two million credits.”
“You cannot sell people —” Caelus is still speaking to the dealer, and Ratio is still answering him, “And just what did you suspect it meant by prize, Caelus?” A pause, and then. “Now - you are my financial advisor. I expect you to follow the calculations.” Ratio adjusts his cuff after placing the chip back into the box. “I have arrived early. I presume we may have refreshments while we wait?”
“Of course. Drinks for players are a gift from the House.” The dealer indicates the bar - and Ratio strides toward it, the box carried neatly in the crook of his arm as if it were his book.
“Where is Aventurine?” Caelus asks, as he has asked in his head multiple times.
“Do keep up.” Ratio admonishes, “That answer is also obvious. Here.”
Caelus is handed something sweet and non-alcoholic, whereas Ratio…orders whiskey, single malt, from a place Caelus has never heard of, and a year that sounds ancient -
“An excellent choice, sir.” The barkeep’s compliment is entirely ignored by Ratio, who finally meets Caelus’ expression. “And?”
“…You said nothing needlessly hasty.”
“There is nothing needless nor hasty about a drink, Caelus.” Ratio accepts the beaker with one hand and a nod, and seems about to take a sip or say something else when…
…when Caelus realises that the room has gone rather too quiet for so many people.
“Now then.” Ratio murmurs. “Let’s see you.”
“Ladies, gentlemen, all, sundry. Welcome to my modest establishment.”
There is applause. Caelus tightens his hand over his side.
“Tonight is a very special night.” The suit matches the burgundy velvet, but the mask hides all of the speaker’s face - plain cream with simple markings accentuating where there would be eyes, perhaps.
And a painted smile - but Caelus can hear that.
“As you will be aware, dear spectators - a poker tournament with the most exquisite singular prize. Four opponents - and why yes, your beloved maestro will play too - putting wits against wits to gain —”
“Remember. Nothing needlessly hasty.” Ratio murmurs, and Caelus hears steel beneath the syllables.
“— the darling of the IPC and a most rare of species! Behold — !”
Gasps and murmurs of amazement and applause, as the shroud is raised.
The sounds cover Caelus’ whisper - and he looks to Ratio.
Ratio is very still.
Then.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Toward the masked antagonist.
Caelus follows, ready, raring, furious -
“Ah. Such bearing could only be one Veritas Ratio. Our most esteemed scholarly guest opponent.” A mockery of a half bow. “Welcome. I trust you have received your gift from the House?”
Caelus waits for Ratio to -
“I wish to inspect the prize offering.” Ratio’s tone is pleasant. “The funds are quite high; a sizeable dent in my budgets should I have to pay them back, which I presume is the understanding?”
A chuckle, from behind the mask. “You truly are astute, Professor.”
“Then you will permit me.”
“Naturally. Though - I should, out of courtesy, warn your ‘financial advisor’ of any poor etiquette in my casino.”
Caelus straightens, arms tensing - but Ratio’s instruction is very clear. “Come.”
They approach the cage.
Golden gilded bars. Golden gilded chains.
A plain white tunic, scant.
Both wrists, lashed high above - so the spine is straining, bare feet hardly touching the ground.
“What are the wires?” Caelus does not know how he formulated this question, when his eyes remain on the bruising and the blood -
“Our establishment prides itself in the quality of its prizes, young man. We are of course constantly monitoring his vitals.”
“Ratio.” Aventurine’s voice is a rasp.
“Gambler.” Ratio replies, the two syllables perfectly neutral.
“Don’t worry, Aventurine - we are going to get you out of here.” Caelus goes to touch a hand to the bars - and Aventurine shakes his head. “I’d - prefer you did not. Touch the bars, I mean. I am quite content for you to get me out of here, though.”
“Why? What’s wrong with the bars?” Caelus watches Aventurine - and there is a flicker of something in those strange eyes as the other regards him, “Oh, just…a little shocking…”
“So we cannot break you out?” Caelus surmises, “Not without hurting you.”
“Quite. Which means there - is only one way out.” Aventurine looks to Ratio, and so does Caelus.
Ratio’s gaze flicks from the cuff on Aventurine’s left wrist, to the gambler’s face, and then he turns to face the table - striding toward it.
The masked owner indicates the chair immediately opposite him, with something most deliberate.
Ratio sets his whiskey down before his place. “I trust there are rules?” He pulls out his chair, and sits. “Let’s hear them.”
The opponent laughs, at this.
“Do you — “ Caelus whispers, as Ratio places the box upon the navy baize. “…Do you even know how to play poker?”
Ratio straightens, and glances to him. “Play poker?” He considers, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “The silver cowboy once tried to teach me. I believe I offended him when I told him it was simply basic mathematics and probability. It ended with rather the dramatic pistols at dawn, though the pistol was singular. And not mine.”
Caelus blinks at him.
“Nevertheless.” A positioning of the chips from his box upon the fabric. “I am…” He raises his gaze - not to the opponent opposite him - but to Aventurine, whose smirk is just a little too close to a grimace. “…confident I can figure it out, as we go.”