Eva takes her place at one of the many tables set aside for the tournament. Each table has three seats, one each for the gamblers and the final chair for a casino employee to act as judge.

  Chairs ring the large room, full of spectators. Among them I spot a female Tserri with a device on her shoulder that looks like one of my dronefeathers but without its concealing plumage. She directs it with claw taps upon its exposed frame.

  I would like to get a better look at the device but must devote my attention to the game about to be played. The judge, a young male whose dark brown fur has white spots sprinkled across it, sets three dice down on the table.

  Eva's opponent, a rich Selber in a synthetic red and orange suit, declines the first throw. Eva picks up the mechanical dice in one hand and pushes her opening wager into the center of the table. She waits for her opponent to match the bet then shakes the dice in cupped hands.

  Each of the nine faces cycles randomly between colors at each impact between the dice. I concentrate upon the network of electrical flow within them, searching for the vital randomizer. The dice fly free from her open hands before I can find the proper place to interfere. The dice tumble across the table before coming to a stop. I am unable to alter the outcome for this throw.

  The dice all point outward, but there is no pattern to the arrangement of colored faces displayed by the dice.

  "Outward, neutral," declares the judge before signaling to the other player.

  The well-dressed male scoops up the dice. He shakes them the minimum three times before releasing them, looking disinterested the whole time. His throw is poor, having no result. I do identify the portion of the circuit that controls the outcome, however.

  Eva starts to reach toward the dice, but the male pushes forward additional funds. I think he's buying another turn. If he wins then he can claim the first round of this match, but Eva does not need to pay. If he loses, she will earn double from this throw. A few of those watching jeer him, but he doesn't react.

  The dice rattle across the table and I reach out.

  I miss and only a spark too small for any watching to see appears beside the moving die. The judge announces, "Outward, neutral," when they stop. The judge motions for Eva to take the dice and her winnings. Behind her a small section of the watchers cheer before the judge hushes them.

  It seems that on a tie the original toss wins. That or that buying another turn and ending in a draw is seen as weak. No matter, this is a win for Eva. Already a third of his funds now sit on her side of the round table.

  More turns pass as I continue fumbling my attempts to help. At most I manage a glittering static field around the dice one time that lands on a winning throw of its own accord. The one time I do manage to alter the faces, I cause her to lose half her credit chits.

  The crowd grows more invested as luck graces the Ship-Mother with surprise wins that keep her in the game for longer than many of the other pairs around them. Losers walk off to join the audience while winners return to the waiting room for the next round.

  Soon she and the well-dressed gambler are among the last five pairs. Only three credit chits sit outside of Eva's control. She places her chits into the middle and the other gambler slides his three over. He picks up the dice and I concentrate upon them. He releases them with a lazy flick of his wrist.

  I track the currents passing through the devices and draw them down the paths I want. They tumble to a stop. No array. Success!

  Eva scoops up the dice. Any matching facing pair or a good alignment will win her the match. I cannot change how the dice land but the final bounce is finally within my power to decide.

  She tosses the electronic dice then puts her hand upon the pouch containing me. I fear that others may notice the motion but concentrate upon my task. With the final impact of the dice, I set them all to the same pair of colors. No matter how they land it should be better than a valueless attempt.

  They stop in a rough line. All three point in the same direction, toward the judge. The center die displays colors that match exactly those beside it. Each is red on Eva's side and blue on her opponent's end of the table.

  "That's a rare toss," the judge says, forgetting his professionalism. He snorts once, then declares, "Blessed alignment."

  The crowd rises to their feet but respectfully keep the noise to a low rumble. Eva passes to the next round. The judge escorts her to the waiting room.

  She has time enough to drink from a provided bottle and check her reflection. Then the officials arrange them at new tables.

  The second round passes much less eventfully than the first. The third as well. Whenever the opposite gambler extends all their assets I reach out and force luck to wait its turn. It does not always result in a winning throw, but often enough that the Ship-Mother advances to the final round.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  On many occasions, she reaches down, touching me through her pouch with her hand. Often enough that the officials do indeed notice. Less judges are need for each round and they form groups around each table that grow thicker each round. Eva's matches attract the most officials. Their eyes follow her hands when she touches me.

  She waits for the last round with her opponent, a small male Tserri wearing a grease-stained pair of green overalls over his dark brown fur. Upon his head is a hat with a wide brim and lengths of orange ribbon tied around it. It is during these moments that a pair of Tserri in casino uniforms approach the Ship-Mother.

  "Ma'am, we need you to leave your pouch in here during your match."

  "Alright, sure," she replies confidently. She takes it off and hands it to one of them.

  He takes it in his lower claws. "Do you mind if we look inside?"

  She nods and he pulls open the flap. Inside with me are the contents of Desra's pouch. The officials see me nestling against a blue brush with silver fur stuck in the bristles and a claw file. One picks up the brush, then looks at Eva's dark crest before moving to put it back. Its removal reveals a small device.

  The other official stops the one holding the brush and pulls a data tablet out of the pouch. A quick search reveals that it holds only episodes of tri-vee programs.

  "There's no way that's the real thing," the one holding the pouch exclaims. He points at me with a free claw.

  Eva shakes her head. "No, just a replica I had a friend carve for good luck."

  "Yeah, Harv" his partner jokes, "the lights are still on."

  "Still," the first says with a sigh. "We've had complaints."

  "No, I understand," she says hurriedly. "Can't make exceptions just because I'm in charge."

  The Tserri laugh along with the Ship-Mother, but they place the pouch holding me down on an empty seat.

  "Alright, this way," announces Harv as he leads her out to face the Tserri in the green overalls.

  From my place in the waiting room I can only barely make out what is happening. The crowd, now focusing upon only one pair, are able to cheer freely. That noise reaches me easily, but any conversation drowns beneath it.

  With intense effort I peer further. At the very edge of my ability, I sense the three dice. They are in a pair of cold claws that warm as they near the thick pads and the furry limb. The stored electrical and magnetic patterns of a large pile of chits sits between them. Nothing remains in front of either gambler.

  I know not who's turn it is, but that this throw is important is clear. With all my will I reach out to override the randomizer. The dice land upon the table and roll to a stop. I cannot stop them from landing in an inward pointing circle, but I manage to make their colors meaningless.

  Whatever the judge declares is lost beneath the crowd as it roars. The very room rumbles and I can feel the vibrations from inside the waiting room. Then, with a shocking suddenness the crowd falls silent. Eva picks up the dice.

  Eva sits just outside my influence. I strain, trying to reach the dice in her hand.

  Pain fills my mind, clouding my exotic senses. I feel warmth encompass my physical form. It isn't important, the heat is nice. It helps to soothe the mental strain that swirls through my mind disrupting my thoughts.

  The dice move in and out of my control, disrupting my efforts. The heat grows into a mild discomfort that no longer helps but further distracts. I concentrate harder and some of the blurring of my thoughts relents. I almost lose track of the devices as they move.

  I reach out, stretching my will to its limit as the dice leave her hands. A roar so loud it sounds like it comes from inside the waiting room as well rises up. Two of the dice only do I manage to change. The third dice lands too far away and the pain and heat are too much.

  The roar reaches a climax, but I am too distracted by the raging heat that consumes me to notice the outcome of the final throw. Thermal energies dance around me, beyond my control. Flames consume the pouch and its contents before automated systems manage to respond.

  White smothering froth sprays from a vent in the ceiling. Every surface becomes slick with the flame suffocating foam. Yet the heat remains. Foam boils off of me in thick clouds of steam. Some of the heat lessens but not enough.

  My tired mind reaches out with weakened resolve and is repulsed by the intense heat. Almost I choose to let the heat win, but I force myself to try again to conquer the chaotic thermal aura around me.

  Eva rushes in, seeking the source of an alarm I only register as background noise in my struggle. Behind her, others push to get inside. With a final effort I force the thermal energy into a lower dimension. My physical self glows brightly as a side effect of the exchange before I notice and alter the frequency to an invisible form.

  The Ship-Mother reaches me first and picks up the charred remains of Desra's pouch. She wraps the blackened fabric around me as best she can while hiding me from view with her body. The wet foam soaking it helps the remains of the pouch cling to my form, though some patches of orange shine through holes in the dark cloth.

  "Sorry people," Eva declares loudly. "Looks like a battery malfunction in my tablet."

  She holds up the burnt device to demonstrate. The battery pack is blacker than the rest of the device, lending credence to her words. Every eye in the room stares at her. There is some muttering, but no one speaks up.

  "Where do I claim my prize? I'm in a bit of a hurry," she says as she looks around for another exit.

  The pain consuming my mind refuses to release me from its jaws. Although I can recognize the voices and sights around me, it is as if they are very far away. My last thought directs a sloppy radio broadcast out from my body. Darkness closes over me for a time I cannot guess.

  When I recover my senses, I am once more inside a pouch, though this one contains the Ship-Mother's personal belongings.

  "As you can see, the Great Spirit remains in place," Eva declares.

  I concentrate to banish the residual ache I feel and take in the sights in the room around me.

  The Ship-Mother sits surrounded by Tserri in casino uniforms. All face a screen showing the inside of her office. The focus zooms in upon an orange sphere jutting from an open socket in the wall. Gauntleted hands reach into view and shut the panel, hiding the crystal power core from sight. The display turns black and the screen powers down.

  I owe Bucket a great debt for their assistance. Remembering radio this time is quite an achievement, yet now I have a new worry. If I attempt to reach beyond my limits again, will worse happen?