For Your Eyes Only

by Roberto Sanhueza

Table of Contents
Part 1 appears
in this issue.

conclusion

My new old eye (a lot in the infrared, a bit in the ultraviolet, remember?) noticed a small difference in some of the cards Chulo was dealing,

Then I saw it. The son of a bitch was cheating!

Kings, queens, jacks and aces were made of different material than the rest of the deck. You couldn’t tell by looking. They seemed the same, but my new old eye told me they were retaining some more heat than the rest, and I could see the slight infrared glow.

Chulo didn’t have an infrared eye, but he could feel the minute difference in temperature on his fingertips if he was wired to do it.

I signaled Macarena for some time out from the game in order to get a drink. She was moderately winning at the time, so she me gave an inquiring look as if to say, now?

I couldn’t be too open about it but she seemed to catch my meaning and got up to join me in the bar.

“What’s up, Flaco? I’m on a winning streak here, wouldn’t like to stop it.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t. In fact we’re going to make Chulo pay my eye back with a vengeance. You’ll see.”

She was suddenly very interested and excited. Her eyes shone and I would have bet she was wet where it matters. I hoped to find that out later. I briefly informed her about my findings.

“What are your plans, then?”

I smiled my mean boy smile. “Nothing fancy, I just plan to take my nice, self-cooling glass of expensive booze to the table and keep my hands around it when it’s my turn to deal.”

She came real close and put the softest and at the same time wildest kiss I’ve ever felt on my lips. Her eyes shone like she was way up high on something very powerful. Which perhaps she was after all. Adrenaline is addictive, too. “Let’s go and kick some ass, Flaco baby.”

We did, I just played it down when somebody else was dealing, Chulo’s cheating working for me as well, thanks to my new old eye. I passed when I didn’t have a good hand but bet heavily when I could see the others were bluffing.

When it was my turn to deal I kept my hands on the glass most of the time and cooled off all the cards. I could see Chulo’s amazement when he could no longer read the cards. It wasn’t something that showed a lot on his face but since I was on the know I could tell. I kept, of course, a poker face.

After my dealing was done, three players dropped out and called it a day before they got to the organs-betting stage. That left only Chulo, Macarena and me. By then most of the tokens were either in front of me or Chulo and I could see he wasn’t happy about it.

It was Chulo’s turn to deal again but then he laid the cards down on the table and said. “From this moment on the house reserves the right to demand some actual credit backup for the bets, before we go on.”

He was looking straight at me. He knew I was broke, of course, but that hadn’t stopped him from cheating my left eye out of me the time before. “I would need a credit chip from you, Señor Castillo, in order to resume the game.”

That was news. Chulo had never called me “Señor Castillo” before.

Macarena would have none of it, though. She produced a platinum bank credit chip on the table. “I will vouch for Señor Castillo,” she said. “In fact, I will have Señor Castillo playing in my stead,” she added and put all her remaining tokens on my pile.

I managed not to smile and looked Chulo straight in the eye. “Does it suit you fine, Señor Beroiza?” I said.

He said nothing and just started dealing. It was back to him and me again.

Chulo was good and he tried hard but I wasn’t going to let my chance go by. For once the tables had turned and the house didn’t have the winning hand.

He lost his right eye first and I guess by then he had figured what was wrong with his system but he couldn’t just go on and admit his cheating, could he? Not in front of Macarena’s security chip recording everything. He didn’t quit until he had lost his liver and had his heart in severe jeopardy.

Then he got up and said: “That is quite enough for tonight. Will Madame have the organs delivered to the address of her choice or will she take credit refunds instead?”

To the end he refused to address me but that took very little off the sweet taste of revenge.

Macarena gave me the slightest side glance but she knew what I also knew . No point in poking Chulo on the ribs any longer. “Credit refunds will be fine, Senor Beroiza. I believe you already have my credit chip on the table.”

We got off the table and left the room, trying hard not to burst in hysterical laughter.

We left the place hand in hand. Standing at the door, Macarena whispered in my ear. “Do you, by any chance, have a place nearby where we can have a little celebration?”

In fact I did. My place is nothing to boast about but at least I had cleaned up that very morning so I would be OK.

We walked through the night the couple of blocks to my place. The street was dark and empty but I could see the junkies lurking in dark corners and alleys (some in the UV, a lot in the infrared, remember?). I’m sure Macarena thought it was her link with her private security which kept her safe on my street. I knew better. The synth heads would have mugged her any time, chip or no chip, to tear her apart and sell her organs in the black market. They were too far gone to care about anything but their next fix.

It was me they would not mug. I belong here, I’m one of the local boys, not some rich outsider showing off wealth in front of our miserable noses. We went by unmolested.

If she was disgusted with my poor quarters, she never showed it. That much I can say for her.

As I closed my door behind us, she stopped a while and fidgeted behind her ear. “I’ve got this little bypass in my chip an engineer boyfriend of mine gave me. It will continue broadcasting the recording from the casino. I use it when I want some privacy and I don’t want those snoopy guards to record everything I do and show it to my dad.”

That might have been a pity. What came next certainly deserved to be recorded.

That woman fulfilled my wildest cravings. I thought I knew a couple of things about sex but she obviously knew much more.

Even to this day thinking of her is a mixture of bliss and sorrow. I know having her that night was only a whim of hers and I also knew I, most likely, would never see her again.

But that night all that was far from my thoughts. I only cared to cross her lovely ocean and forgot about differences in class or wealth.

Until it was over. I guess she thought I was asleep for she got up very silently and got dressed in my little bathroom, in front of my not too clean mirror.

I got up as well and hugged her from behind. “Are you leaving, just like that, without saying goodbye?”

But she was all cold and matter of fact and freed herself from my hug. “It’s over, Flaco, you go back to your life and I go back to mine. It was nice meeting you, but it’s over now.”

It shouldn’t have hurt, it wasn’t unexpected after all. But it hurt just the same.

She pressed behind her ear and said, “I’m connected to my shielded life once more. Don’t bother to walk me to the casino. I know the way and I’ll call my transportation from there... And Flaco,” she left a credit chip on the table, “get yourself a new eye, darling.”

The words didn’t hurt as much as the way she said them.

I just stood there wrapped in the very sheets that had taken our passion not so long ago and as she walked out of my door it occurred to me she had never asked what I did for a living.

I’m an organs dealer in the black market. I have these big freezers in my back room where I keep what the synth heads bring me while I find suitable buyers.

I do OK usually, market’s good. My problem is I like betting too much, and my profit has the nasty habit of evaporating over at Chulo’s.

So I watched Macarena walking out of my door and out of my life.

Should I warn her about the synth heads? Nah! Fuck the high-falutin’ bitch. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d never see her again.

I’d see her, for sure. Parts of her, anyway.