Likewise, despite how the Apparatus operates outside of the law, they can't just confiscate or freeze all of Heller's assets for some made-up reason, or say "those stupid humans just built a factory that could make the poles shift within months, you need to get to Earth now!" Nor can Gris, despite being Heller's supervisor and supposed superior, simply order the guy to get moving.
No, we have to go through this zany scheme involving a rigged game of dice to attempt to jump-start the plot. It's an artificial obstacle used to justify an unnecessary sequence in which Gris gets to be a sneaky little twerp and have karma slap him around a bit. Which is a recurring theme of The Invaders Plan, really.
Anyway, the dice game - Heller's doing his routine, impatient wait during the three hours between training and Krak Boinking Time... you know what, I should've phrased that differently. A knock on the door turns out to be Snelz, who as rehearsed tells a story about a big dice game down at Camp Endurance, and asks the glorious and handsome Jettero Heller to show him the ropes. Heller explains how six twelve-sided dice can give a total between 6 and 72, just in case Snelz is incapable of basic math, and even draws a bell curve to show how the odds of scoring above 50 or below 28 are fairly low. Snelz eagerly laps up the "lesson," then asks for a demo match, for "modest stakes." Heller agrees, and marks the dice - which unbeknownst to him are loaded - to make sure that they're playing with the same set the whole match.
What follows is dull.
They began with a modest half-credit bet. Snelz threw 20. Heller declined to make a second bet that he could beat it. He threw 51. He won. Ah, well. Good strategy. Heller was to win for a while.
To quote the back cover again, "RIVETING, SUPERBLY PLOTTED INTRIGUE." Oh, and there's singing too, the traditional good luck chants of Voltarian gamblers:
Money for my honey,
Booze for my cruise,
Fly them over fifty
And don't let this spacer lose
There's roughly seven pages of reports on who rolled what, interspaced with the lyrical poetry of L. Ron Hubbard. The gist of it is: everything goes wrong for Gris.
Things go well at first, and Heller and Snelz trade wins, while slowly but surely raising the stakes. Then there's a distraction when a guard comes with a message from Dr. Crobe. Gris gets to go down to the yucky doctor's office and explain why Heller has missed another appointment, which makes his tummy act up again. He only stops Crobe from tattling to Hisst with the promise of a two hundred credit bribe, which Gris doesn't have on him, but he's about to win a boatload of money from Heller, right?
When Gris gets back, he finds Snelz sitting rigid and sweating, while Heller has a huge pile of cash in front of him. Despite Snelz' best efforts, he can't get the trick dice to cooperate. Desperate, he bets all of his money - or rather all of Gris' money - on one last gamble. Naturally, he loses. Heller is such a sport that he tries to back out of it rather than leave his buddy destitute, but to Gris' silent rage Snelz lets it go, saying "Fast gotten, fast gone," and thanking Heller for a good game before leaving.
As Heller yawns while trying to stuff the huge wad of bills into his bag, Gris has a quiet freakout. Not only is he now broke, but he's in debt beyond a year's pay, assuming he can hold on to the three extra paychecks from Mission Earth. Meanwhile Heller is even richer, and still able to smuggle in the Countess for Sexy Time, so he has no reason to leave Spiteos for Earth. Other than, you know, his honorable sense of duty, and his desire to rescue "Prince Caucalsia's Lost Colony," and his prior appreciation for Earth.
I actually miss Terl. He wouldn't have stood for this bullcrap. No, he'd have slapped an explosive collar on Krak and told Heller to get his ass on a spaceship.
Back to Chapter Seven
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