“What are you going to do with us, Sergeant?” Henry said, eyeing the assemblage.
“Nothing to worry about, sir,” Moustache said, flashing another quick smile. “After we’ve collected a few more, you’ll all be loaded into a shuttle bus and given a lift back to the space terminal.”
“You mean, we’re being forcibly deported?”
“Not at all,” the sergeant said. “It’s more a courtesy service … assuming, of course, that you’re planning to leave. If you’d prefer to stay on Lorelei, that’s your prerogative. As long as you stay out of the Fat Chance.”
A vision flashed through Henry’s mind, of he and his wife accepting tickets and seed money from Maxine Pruet, then trying to work their scams at one of her casinos instead of the one they had been instructed to hit. He quickly brought the mental picture to a halt before it reached its graphically unpleasant conclusion.
“No, we’ll take the ride,” he said hastily. “I suspect our reception at the other casinos would be roughly the same as here … except, perhaps, less polite. My compliments, by the way. Of all the times we’ve been barred from or asked to leave a casino, this is far and away the most civilized handling of an awkward situation we’ve encountered … wouldn’t you say, dear?”
His wife nodded brusquely, but failed to smile or otherwise join him in his enthusiasm.
“It’s the captain’s idea, really,” Moustache said, “but I’ll be sure to tell him you appreciate it. Now, if you’ll just have a seat. There are drinks and doughnuts available while you wait, or, if you’re interested, there’s a blackjack table set up in back so you can at least do a little playing before you go.”