The Ultimate Game

Chapter 1

A tremor, followed by a marrow-deep shiver, shot through Max Turner. His eyes cracked open. Ice crystals dusted his body and a frosted glass coffin enclosed him. Exhaling harsh gasps of fog, he struggled to breathe, his lungs wheezing as if they had forgotten how to work.
Knees buckling and back arching, he clawed at his chest—pain, searing, scalding pain. His heart stuttered, skipped a beat, kicked in, skipped another beat. A split second later, it raced like a horse galloping down the last furlong.
Uncontrollable shaking accompanied the pins and needles of muscles coming to life, joining the spasms convulsing through his body and his mounting panic.
He inched a hand up and cleared the mist-covered glass. Illuminated shining walls faced him. Two floating, metallic, rectangular tables occupied the center of the room. Counters floated from the walls without legs, dominating one wall beneath a large, framed blue-green screen.
Where the hell am I?
It didn’t matter. He was getting out before whoever had trapped him returned.
A seam between the glass and metal plate curved beneath his fingertips from his face to below his hipbone. A door—an escape from this icy Hell—did it open by swinging outward or slide free?
Leaning back, he rested his head against the metal tube-like container and, fighting dizziness to stay upright, locked his knees. Maybe he could apply pressure to the door using his body, not just his hands. Bracing himself against the tube’s back, Max pushed forward. The door didn’t budge.
Hands flat on the front panel, he examined the door more closely. It was a slider. Gasping for air, palms flat on the door’s surface he pushed sideways. No movement. One foot braced against the back of the tube, he pressed his shoulder against the glass and metal door and shoved.
Nothing.
Struggling to stand when all he wanted to do was collapse, he rested a moment. A second later, without further touching, the door slid open along the inside of his tube.
Warm air blasted him.
Hanging onto the edge of the opening, Max bit back a groan and dragged himself from the slender, bullet-shaped crypt. Blinking against the bright light, he surveyed his surroundings. The room glowed from silver walls imbued with light. Rows of blinking lights, panels and flickering pictures lined the far wall.
Leaning against the outer metal casing, another shiver tore through him. Damn, how could he be so cold clothed in wool work pants and boots?
He twisted back to the tube. Over the opening, a strip of glowing green letters read Max Turner across a mat of black. A touch of the letters produced no raised signal of paint or ink and no corresponding depression of carving. Odd. He staggered to the tube to his right. The sign above: Madeline Turner.
What the hell? He pressed a hand against the front and wiped the glass. Internal frost blocked his view.
Sliding to the floor, he rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was...that’s right. Old man Riley had blown the mine, sealing them inside. Jackass didn’t realize his daughter, Max’s intended, was with him. Intended? What a joke. Nothing like being told he couldn’t buy his way into society and she refused to be bought. Maybe not, but her father sure could sell her.
“Ah, good, you’re awake,” said a deep voice.
He looked up and stared at three people: one petite blond female, two tall men—one a quadroon, the other white—dressed in tight, blue longjohns and matching boots that capped off below their knees. Over the left breast, two of them had a bronze serpent coiled around a silver staff with wings at the top. The white man had a red “C” in the same place.
“Who are you?”
“Doctors.” The woman motioned to herself and the other man with the serpent staff. “I’m Doctor Carson and he’s Doctor Tom Roberts. The other is a cyborg named AID3C,” she said in the precise drawl of the overeducated with the thread of condescension of the self-importance.
When did women become all-powerful and men subservient? Concentrate. “What’s a cyborg?”
“According to the one hundred ninety-eighth unabridged edition of the New World Dictionary, I am an organic and cybernetic amalgam.”
Tendrils of fear and confusion kept Max momentarily still. Only his years as a professional gambler enabled him to bury his mounting terror behind a bland, unemotional expression. “Organic, cybernetic amalgam?”
“Biologic, living being,” the creature said.
What was he talking about? He stared up at the tall, fair-haired cyborg. At a glance, he’d swear AID3C was human. Don’t get distracted, he ordered himself. “Where am I and how did I get here?”
“You’re at Cryogenics for Life, New Denver. You were recovered from a mine outside Leadville in a stasis condition.” AID3C moved forward. “Let me help you up.”
The cyborg grasped his forearm and with a flick of his wrist, Max was on his feet and held steady in AID3C’s grasp. “How much do you know about me and my...wife?”
“A fair amount. You had papers on you. Our research indicates you were a riverboat gambler, born in the lost city of New Orleans.”
“Lost city?”
“It washed away in the great flood of 2095.”
He started to turn away, and Max touched his arm. “What else did you find?”
“You were engaged to a Madeline Riley. No record of your marriage was discovered, only notation of your joint disappearances on, November 23, 1875. We surmised the woman wearing the wedding band was your wife, making you related to the First Family Riley.” AID3C tilted his head and studied him. “Was Doctor Roberts wrong?”
“No.” He mimicked AID3C’s movement. Max made his living playing poker and long ago learned not to project any tells, especially when cleaning rich marks of all their money. AID3C had several tells, as did the doctors. They might be all smiles, but something was off. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with his insides being studied. “Madeline and I married earlier that day.”
Roberts joined AID3C beside Max. “Can you tell us what happened?”
With the ease of a con artist, Max’s “trust me” smile slid into place as the doc and AID3C continued examining him. He knew too well when someone was searching for a weakness. “I’m not sure. You probably know more than me.”
“Three days ago, GPR—ground penetrating radar—data classified three life forms, in the mine. We arrived with the cryo tubes in hopes you were still alive. Discovering you and the two women in a stasis-like condition without atrophy was an exciting find.” Roberts shrugged. “Unsure how to bring you out of it alive, we placed you in cryo until we worked out a safe reanimation protocol.”
“When’s now and what changed that you awakened me?”
“August 10, 2484. As to what changed,” Roberts shrugged, “I don’t know. Your cyro chamber and your wife’s began processing your reanimation without our input.”
“How did you get trapped in the mine?” AID3C asked.
His sympathetic smile rocked Max. It looked as real as his own, but then his was a ploy. “There was a cave-in.”
“Yes, yes, we know that. But how did you and your wife survive?”
“I’m not sure. There was a cave-in, the ceiling cracked and a purple gas poured in. One minute we were there, the next here. You keep talking about my wife and me. What about the second woman?”
Dr. Carson cut off AID3C’s answer with a terse wave of her hand. “Enough of this chitchat. Brief him later. Right now, we need to rehydrate you and implant the microchip.”
Mouth pressed into a thin line, Max met her openly scornful stare. “Excuse me? Microchip? Implant? What the hell are you talking about?”
“We all have them. Scientists, doctors, regular citizens have a small mechanical disc implanted at the base of the neck, just under the skin. They’re inserted at birth.” Carson lifted something the size of the head of a pin, with two silvery filaments sticking out of the bottom. “These,” she touched the almost invisible wires, “anchor to the disc between the first and second cervical vertebrae. It allows the government to monitor your location and assist you when needed.”
Max jerked free of AID3C. “Do you mean the government can track wherever I am?” His snort turned to laughter, masking his growing alarm. “I don’t think so.” Too much of his business relied on secrecy, and he didn’t see that changing in any lifetime.
She sniffed. “It’s SOP and it’s perfectly safe.”
“What’s SOP?”
“Standard Operating Procedure.” She lifted her long dark hair, looked at Roberts with a raised eyebrow and nodded.
Roberts’s gaze narrowed on the female doctor as he took a long black cylinder with a thin luminescent green screen from his top pocket. “Tilt your head little to the left, Helen.”
Max inhaled through clenched teeth. He’d found it hard to believe a colored man was a doctor, much less one who called a white woman by her first name without Miss. “I see they allowed you to get an education, Doctor Roberts.”
Helen flashed him a pitying look. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s a free citizen of Earth and her colonies.”
Max froze. Earth and her colonies?
“With the top echelon more free than the rest,” Roberts muttered through clenched teeth as he held the cylinder next to Helen’s neck. A series of numbers scrolled, including longitude and latitude. As a red dot blinked, he snapped the reader back into his pocket.
“See, it’s no big deal,” she said, her eyes having changed to flint as she glared at Roberts.
He didn’t miss the Roberts’ guarded look, at her stare. “What’s the problem?” An uncomfortable silence met his question. Interesting. “What’s the red dot mean?” Both docs appeared almost unsure how to answer.
AID3C’s gaze shot between them. With a shrug, the cyborg said, “It’s the explosive. Try to remove the chip…” He held his fists in the air together, opened and thrust them apart in an abrupt movement. “Cervical vertebra erased.”
And your life. Not the response he was expecting from his less than subtle question. “I’ll pass on the chip.”
“You can’t. It’s required.” Helen nodded to AID3C. The cyborg hesitated. “AID3C. Now.”
Max backed up. Helen and AID3C moved forward in concert, giving no leeway as the smooth blue-green screen on the wall vibrated and turned into a blurred watery plane.
Almost human features surfaced out of waves of lines, connections and circuits. Only a partial forehead, yellow eyes, a blade nose and sculpted lips showed with clarity. “Pod number two has revived and is ready for removal and chipping.” A high, lilting female voice filled the air.
“Thank you,” Helen said.
“What’s that?”
“An AIHI.” At his frown, Helen sighed. “An Artificial Intelligence Holographic Interface. They’re in every room.” She nodded at the tube to the right of his. “Your wife is waking. Once she’s out, we’ll hydrate and chip you both at the same time.”
Like hell. Max pivoted and waited beside the frosted glass and metal door as it receded into the container. Ah, they thought Bridget was his wife. “Madeline,” he whispered and scooped her into his arms.
“Set your wife on the table. We’ll rehydrate and implant the chips now.”
“He—” Bridget’s mossy green eyes flashed wide.
Max pressed his lips to her ear. “Play along, love.” Cuddling Bridget to his chest, he met the gazes of his three jailers while he planted a kiss on her temple. “When can we leave?”
“When you’ve been chipped, re-educated and can meld into society. You have six hundred years of history to absorb,” Helen said.
“How can we avoid being chipped?” Max asked.
Roberts fiddled with the console as Helen laughed. “Only the very rich aren’t chipped. They’re all members of the Ten Families. You have a choice in our world: obey The Families, do the work you are assigned, or be sent to mines, or service the army and miners in special brothels.”
Bridget jerked against Max, her fingers fisted in the back of his jacket. “Shush, love. You still haven’t told us where my wife’s friend is. Did she die in the cave-in?”
“No. She died yesterday in cryo. We aren’t sure why she didn’t survive,” Roberts said quietly.
With Roberts’ slit-eyed glare toward Helen, another piece of the puzzle fell into place. They weren’t meant to awaken. Someone had intervened, triggering their resurrection to thwart Helen’s plans. Why kill them after saving them? What was the game? Where was the con?
With one hand tangled in Bridget’s—no, Madeline’s—hair, Max held the trembling woman tight against his chest and caressed her back in slow circles. “I need a blanket for my wife, Madeline.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Calm down, love. The chills will pass.”
“She’ll feel better soon. Why don’t you both lie on the table and we can start.”
“I think not, Doctor Carson.” He met her scowl with an affable grin. “We have money, a lot of money. Not to mention the gold and silver in that mine, along with everything the Riley family stole from me when we disappeared.”

***

“Where are you taking us?” Max stared down at AID3C. The cyborg was tall, but not as tall as Max’s six foot two frame, which comforted him. As a kid, he had been short, pretty and drew the attention of more than a few patrons in his Ma’s saloon. She might have sold herself, but she never sold him. For that reason alone, he loved her.
“To your rooms so you may bathe and rest before tomorrow’s reeducation begins.”
Max took in his filthy, threadbare trousers and gray, rolled-up shirtsleeves. They had definitely seen better days. Then he smiled at Maddie’s ruffled, misbuttoned white shirtwaist tucked into her wrinkled, brown worsted wool skirt, a bedraggled length of fabric dragging on the floor behind her. Somewhere between the mine and the cryo tubes, she’d lost her bustle. The stocking-covered toes of her unshod feet poked out with each step. Helen had taken their boots earlier tonight saying there was no need for them.
He knew the truth. Doctor Helen Carson feared they’d flee into the mountains they’d spotted through the windows instead of letting themselves be chipped.
Thirty feet down the endless gray-illuminated metal corridor with countless intersecting branches, Max grabbed Maddie’s hand and pulled her to a stop. “I thought you were taking us to our room.”
AID3C unlocked a door and opened it. “These are Mrs. Turner’s quarters. Yours are across the hall.”
Maddie looked like someone who’d just lost the family fortune to a royal flush while holding a straight. Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her next to him. “We stay together.” At AID3C’s nod, they entered the room. Except for a desk, bureau and small bed, the room was devoid of life and of windows. No art decorated the glistening white walls, only one of those rectangle blue-green screens with a metal frame in the far corner, taking in the entire room. He saw only one blind spot from the all-seeing eye.
The cyborg entered the sterile room behind them, strode to the far wall and opened a door. “This is the bathroom.”
Max, with Maddie in tow, joined AID3C. “Oh, you mean water closet.” He entered the room and moved to the small squat seat. “And this is?”
“It’s a waste disposal unit. You sit on it and expel. Press button A. It flushes the waste to the recycling facility, then push B and it cleanses you.”
“Don’t you have newspaper for us to wipe ourselves?” Maddie asked in a strangled voice.
“Mrs. Turner—”
At the red creeping into her face, Max interrupted. “Just call her Maddie like I do.”
“As you wish. No, Maddie, paper is no longer used. Resources on Earth are limited. As you will learn during your reeducation, the Families are attempting to reforest the planet. Between global warming, the ensuing ice age, loss of large portions of the population and feeding those who stayed instead of fleeing to the outer colonies, Earth is struggling with recovery. Pressing button B serves the same purpose toilet tissue—or newspaper—once did, and does a better job of it.”
“Yet you waste water with this,” Max waved his hand to the...waste disposal unit.
“All water, whether from the unit or this,” AID3C motioned to a sink, “or this,” he motioned to a tub, “returns to the decontamination facility where it is cleansed and purified, then reused.” He reached into the tub and flipped a lever. A piece of metal slid to cover the drain hole while water poured from a faucet. “It is always at body temperature. If you press this button, water will come from above like rain. It all flows out through drain and returns to the facility. This holds your body cleanser.”
AID3C pushed aside a cover. “It functions to clean, prevent bacteria growth and—” He wrinkled his nose. “—odor. You will find the towels in the cabinet.”
Max rubbed his stubbled jaw. “What about shaving?”
He moved the mirror over the sink to the side and removed two wands, handing one to Maddie and the other to him. “The law requires permanent removal of hair from the face.”
“Why?”
“Identification.”
“Forget it. Do you have something less permanent?”
AID3C gave him a gray wand. “This keeps the facial hair at a minimum if used once a week.” He turned to Maddie. “You must remove yours also.”
She rubbed her face. “I don’t have whiskers.”
“You have hair under your arms and on your legs.” AID3C handed her a wand. “Remove it.”
“No.” Her nose wrinkled and she shuddered. “Only whores are hairless.”
“Only female uneducated miners, factory and brothel workers have hair.”
“What? How—”
“Stop, you know my mother’s profession, love,” he said.
“If you will accompany me, Max, we will get your bedclothes while your wife bathes.”

***

Max lay on the cot, Madeline held tight against him. What a fine mess. He was checking out a potential mineral deposit. Madeline shows up with her maid Bridget in tow and throws his engagement ring in his face. He’d spotted Riley’s thugs approaching and dragged the women deeper in the cave and stowed them in an alcove, then headed back to the men, his Remington Repeater at the ready, only to wake up here. Shit, he’d fallen through the looking glass.
“I’m sorry I acted that way and hurt you.” Madeline started to roll away from him.
“You’re forgiven.” He held her fast, draped across him, lips pressed against her ear, her hair covering his mouth, shielding him from view of the all-seeing eye. “Hold still.” He pulled a cube the size of a die from his waistband, slipped it between them and pressed the single dot. “AID3C gave it to me.”
“When and what’s it do?”
“When we got the bed linens. According to him, it creates something called white noise and keeps them from hearing us. The screen in the corner is a spy device.” He jerked his head toward the framed blue-green glow. “It not only sees us but hears everything. If we whisper, it reads our lips. It reports everything we say.”
“Or do?”
He nodded against her neck, pressing light kisses from her ear down to its curve.
“Are we prisoners?”
“Don’t know, but we need to work together. The moment you woke, you became my wife.”
“But—”
“Me or the chip and brothel. I made the decision for you.” He stroked Bridget’s—no, Madeline’s—back as she clenched her hands into tight fists against his chest. “My reading of this is that Doctor Roberts knows something or at least suspects Doctor Helen Carson killed your maid, Bridget.”
“Who’s Doctor Roberts?”
“The quadroon, according to Helen and the medical insignia on his suit, he’s a doctor. The other male’s a cyborg.” He quietly relayed what he’d learned. With each word, she stiffened more to the point he feared she’d snap in two. “AID3C also knows more than he’s said.”
“Will they help us?”
His lips brushed her neck. At her shiver, he smothered a smile. “Who?”
“AID3C and the doc?”
Max closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know, love. I’m not even sure why they woke us.”
She tipped her head back. “Do you really have a lot of money?”
“No. I had a bloody fortune in gold, silver, emerald and sapphire mines, but not any longer. According to AID3C, when we disappeared the Riley Family claimed the holdings as Madeline’s heirs and leveraged their way to power.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “The way I see it, we’re the true leaders of the Riley Family and that claim might save us, long enough to escape without being chipped.”
“Why are you being so kind to me? I’m just a maid.”
“And I was just a poker player with aspirations.” He chuckled. He’d been a fool to think Madeline Riley wouldn’t have discovered the truth. After all, he’d stripped her father of all his money and offered to let him pay off his IOUs with his daughter’s hand in marriage and his ticket to the upper class. “Never forget one thing, Maddie, together we survive, alone we, or at least you, disappear.”
“My name’s—”
“Madeline Turner, nickname Maddie,” he hissed. “Bridget was a friend of yours, nothing more. She’s dead. As my wife, I can get you out of here alive, with luck un-chipped. You’re a beautiful woman, love. If they discover the truth, say hello to the brothels.”
Pulling back, he brushed auburn strands of spun golden fire off her face and gazed into eyes filled with calculation. Ah, not such an innocent. “What are you?”
“A maid?”
“Maddie,” he drawled, grinning at the fleeting look of shock replaced by cunning. “We both know you’re so much more. Like recognizes like.” Bending down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked the blanket around her. “Trust me, Maddie. Trust me. We’ll make a great team.”

***

They spooned together on the small cot, Max tucked against her back. For the first time in her life she felt cosseted and protected, and by a gambler, cheat and con artist no less.
She wanted to scream her name wasn’t Bridget or Madeline. She frowned. There had been so many names she had trouble remembering her birth name. Until she was five, she had been Maddie. Now at twenty-three, or was that six hundred thirty-two, she had come full circle.
Not that it mattered. Max was right. If she wanted to live, she’d be his wife, Madeline Turner. Her thumb rubbed and rotated the wedding band on her ring finger.
He twisted her in his arms until they were facing one another, his face a little too close for her comfort.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Kinda hard to do with you pressed against me making me as horny as a stallion around a brood of mares.” He stopped nibbling her earlobe and stared at her. “Talk. I need to know more about you if we hope to escape alive. Because trust me, Maddie. That bitch wants us chipped so her boss can kill us.”
The low-lit walls increased to a soft glow and she met an amused navy-ringed turquoise stare framed by sinfully long soot-colored eyelashes. “Escape where, Max? We're over six hundred years in the future. We don’t know anything about this world.”
“Yes, we do. The doctors don’t trust each other. I think the government controls people based on someone’s whim. That’s why I won’t allow us to be chipped. But we need more information to escape.” At her arched brow, he sighed. “Information is power, Maddie. I never play poker against someone I can’t beat. I never cheat someone who will catch me. I never go into a con where I didn’t know more about the person or business than they do themselves. And I never take on a partner, without knowing everything they bring to the table. Now, talk.”
“I’m great at picking locks and pockets and I can open any safe without getting caught.”
“I was right; we’ll make a good team. What were you doing in Denver?”
“Almost got caught in Boston and fled to Denver planning to make another large score before heading to San Fran.”
“Great city, lots of money, a perfect place to start new. So why were you still in Denver?”
“That’s your fault. My mark, old man Riley, lost everything to you the day before I hit his safe.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the simple gold Claddagh wedding band on her ring finger.
“And this? Did you have a husband?”
The soft laugh always in his voice was missing, in its place, a harsh rasp. She bit back a none-of-your-business retort. He was right. To survive they needed to work together and without knowledge they’d blow the con. “No. It’s all I have left of my mum. When she was dying of consumption, I started wearing it for protection against those rich toffs in Boston. It kept them at bay...most of the time.”
He drew her finger into his mouth and sucked, his tongue twirling the ring. Pulling back, he winked. “You see those doctors staring at it in awe.” He spun the band.
She jerked her hand free. “And yes. Roberts said it could buy us a mansion in New Chicago and keep us in style the rest of their lives.” If this unassuming ring was worth that much, then Max’s hidden treasure was enough to buy a country. “Do you realize how much danger you have put us in with your big talk?”
“Uh huh. I think she killed our friend, but we should be safe until she learns where my treasure is.”
“You hope.”
“I’m making an educated wager.”
His mouth covered hers. A shock wave ripped through her. She’d had wealthy men grab her, grind themselves against her, and slobber over her. But she’d never experienced the whisper of lips on hers, the moist tracing of them with a tongue, the asking, begging for entrance, instead of taking.
On a sigh, she allowed him entry then stiffened as his fingers flicked open the buttons on her gown and spread it open to her waist. “I’m glad the gown is silk. You deserve the best.”
“You, too, Max.”
His hands petted, stroked and caressed every inch of her. “You’re beautiful, Maddie. A sight for my poor eyes.” His mouth covered her nipple and suckled her.
She sighed again and her thighs relaxed, spreading as she grew wet and needy. Her hands slid under his lightweight shirt, fingers tracing his backbone down the bare skin, savoring the feel of it.
As he lifted his head, she moaned. A second later, she almost fainted at the wicked thoughts filling her as his mouth again covered hers. His tongue stroked and caressed, only to retreat and thrust back in, mimicking the action of his hips against her and he gathered her gown along her legs.
In spite of the all-seeing blue-green screen, it took all her willpower not to help him and she groaned, “We can’t.”
“Ah, Maddie, we’re married and missed our honeymoon. Let’s celebrate.”
“Not tonight. They’re watching.”
“They’re always watching,” he murmured, the back of his fingers caressed her cheek. “We could stay under the blankets.”
“Not now.” Maddie jerked her gown free of his hand and bit her lip to prevent a laugh from escaping. He looked like a little boy denied a piece of penny candy. God help her, if she didn’t stop him now she’d never be able resist him. She’d been a thief most of her life but never a fallen woman. “You’re a very bad and dangerous man, Max Turner.”
He winked. “But I’m all yours...when you’re ready.”