Dead Man's Hand by Steven Meehan

 His eyes were his most powerful and
distinguished asset.  Everyone talked about his wisdom, but once I saw his
eyes I was certain that those grey eyes were the sole reason people thought him
wise.
    Of course it was his
clothing that marked him as special.  Which only proves the saying that
what someone wears will tell you a lot about them. With that thought in mind I
went to work trying to figure out as much as I could about him, and none of
what I saw put me at ease.  As he stood there waiting for his effects to
be collected by his henchman, his emotionless grey
eyes began to register and catalogue everything and everyone in his waiting
room.  As he was taking everything in I could see why some of the rumors I
had heard claimed that he was omniscient.  But even this behavior could
only explain a piece of those rumors.  The slack in his omniscience must
have been handled by some very serious and dedicated researchers, he certainly
would have the money for that.
    But even
armed with all of that data, it would require a special mind to process and use
it all.  And in that moment, I could tell that brains were no issue for
Dempsey.  I could see him processing everything that his eyes, ears, and
researchers had collected.  I could actually see his mind crunching the
numbers so to speak.  Even worse, I knew he was using what he had
collected to make decisions based solely on what he was processing.  And
by the way he carried himself, I could tell that he rarely made mistakes, or if
he did they were quickly corrected.
    For the first
time since I had decided to come here I thought about following Matt’s advice.
 I felt like cutting and running.  I knew if I tried to leave I would
forfeit my entrance fee, but that might be the best use of the money if it kept
me off of this man’s radar.  It wasn’t like I was all that invested in the
game.  I mean it was just the entrance fee, and while it would be
disappointing to leave it behind it was nothing I couldn’t recoup.  But my
life, or even my freedom those would be harder to salvage if Dempsey chose to
take them.
    But did I
dare try to leave?  What would happen now that Dempsey was here?   I was sure it would be noted and if half of the stories
about Dempsey were true, then I would wind up dead in some alley. Not
immediately perhaps, but eventually, it would happen.  No, I couldn’t
leave. I had to see this through to the end. I had made my bed, now I needed to
lie in it.  All the same, I should probably follow Matt’s other advice and
not change any of my cards.  Which was going to be harder to do than I
cared to admit.  He had been right about that much, I was next to useless
when it came to showing restraint, at the poker tables at least.  I just
didn’t like losing.  Well, I was just going to have to fight my instincts
because altering my cards was no longer an option.
    Once
Dempsey’s effects were collected, he stepped clear of the doorway and spoke
with a booming voice that certainly carried to everyone in the room.  He
must have engineered the room so that his voice would carry from that
spot.  “Welcome to my tournament.  It is good to see so many
returning faces not to mention new ones.  I hope you all have been
enjoying my hospitality.”
    Clasping his
hands together Dempsey smiled from ear to ear.  “Now there is still time
left before we begin so please mingle while we wait for the tournament to
start.  And make sure you enjoy the refreshments while the bars are still
open.  Thank you all for coming.”
    Wordlessly he
dropped his hands to his sides and began to mingle with the crowd.  For a
couple of minutes I watched the man go from player to player.  As he
finished with one player he would leave to find another, even if the player had
been part of a group.  Since no one complained they must be used to the
madness, but why… what was he doing?   Then I realized, he was
lacing the targets!
    I had been
sure that Dempsey would