Chapter Three
I head for the Waterfowl, one of the station’s oldest casinos. There are a few people sitting at the gambling machines like always, though not as many there will be later in the day, and not nearly as many as in the newer facilities. The few trendy new games management has installed to encourage business clash with the century-old rhinestone décor, and they sit on cushions of new carpet three times as thick as the worn layer that covers most of the floor. In spite of the token efforts at modernization, people only come here for three main reasons: historic name recognition, morally flexible security, and cheap nightly rates.
I wave my room card at the door to the lodging hallway, slip into my room, and make quick use of the shower in the last interval before I’m due to vaca
