THE NON-ELECTRONIC BUG
By E. MITTLEMAN
There couldn't be a better
tip-off system than mine—it
wasn't possible—but he had one!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I wouldn't take five cents off a legitimate man, but if they want togamble that's another story.
What I am is a genius, and I give you a piece of advice: Do not everplay cards with a stranger. The stranger might be me. Where there aredegenerate card players around, I sometimes get a call. Not dice—Idon't have a machine to handle them. But with cards I have a machine toforce the advantage.
The first thing is a little radio receiver, about the size of a packof cigarettes. You don't hear any music. You feel it on your skin. Thenext thing is two dimes. You stick them onto you, anywhere you like.Some like to put them on their legs, some on their belly. Makes nodifference, just so they're out of sight. Each dime has a wire solderedto it, and the wires are attached to the little receiver that goes inyour pocket.
The other thing is the transmitter I carry around.
My partner was a fellow named Henry. He had an electronic surplushardware business, but business wasn't good and he was looking fora little extra cash on the side. It turns out that the other littlewholesalers in the loft building where he has his business are allcard players, and no pikers, either. So Henry spread the word thathe was available for a gin game—any time at all, but he would onlyplay in his own place—he was expecting an important phone call and hedidn't want to be away and maybe miss it.... It never came; but thecard players did.
I was supposed to be his stock clerk. While Henry and the other fellowwere working on the cards at one end of the room, I would be movingaround the other—checking the stock, packing the stuff for shipment,arranging it on the shelves, sweeping the floor. I was a regular modelworker, busy every second. I had to be. In order to see the man'shand I had to be nearby, but I had to keep moving so he wouldn't payattention to me.
And every time I got a look at his hand, I pushed the little button onthe transmitter in my pocket.
Every push on the button was a shock on Henry's leg. One for spades,two for hearts, three for diamonds, four for clubs.
Then I would tip the card: a short shock for an ace, two for a king,three for a queen, and so on down to the ten. A long and a shortfor nine, a long and two shorts for an eight ... it took a littlememorizing, but it was worth it. Henry knew every card the other manheld every time. And I got fifty per cent.
We didn't annihilate the fish. They hardly felt they were being hurt,but we got a steady advantage, day after day. We did so well we took onanother man—I can take physical labor or leave it alone, and I leaveit alone every chance I get.
That was where we first felt the trouble.
Our new boy was around twenty. He had a swept-wing haircut, completewith tail fins. Also he had a silly laugh. Now, there are jokes in acard game—somebody taking a beating will sound off, to take away someof the sting, but nobody laughs because the cracks are never funny. Butthey were to our new boy.
He laughed.
He laughed not only when the mark made some crack, but a lot of thetime when he didn't. It got so the customers were looking at him with alot of dislike, and th