Casino by Kai Humphreys
“Are you satisfied? Feeling like you can’t get any pleasure anymore? Like the world is rushing by and you’re being left behind? Come down to the Farah Almawtaa, and let your wildest dreams come true. Located near Flagstaff, AZ, we look forward to sharing your patronage in the city of your wildest daydreams.”
“He’s the man who’s built everything you’ve ever gasped at. Let him take away your breath once more with his latest creation. Everett Sinclair is honoured to invite you to Farah Almawtaa, the city of every pleasure imaginable. Come down to the Wild West, and experience the wild wonder of life in the city of your wildest daydreams.”
“Come now, baby, this party is for you!” Suddenly, it was like being dunked in moonlight after spending so long in the dark. Fire crackers twirled with fireworks in the sky, fire breathers and twirlers performed on pedestals in each square of the city, she and her fiancé’s friends, family and admirers laughed and screamed in shock, jubilation and celebration. It seemed everyone she knew was here, talking to each other, laughing, screaming, admiring, and jesting over flutes of champagne, dressed in their best black tie attire. She saw dresses of every colour twirling, dancing, and glowing. The lights danced across the dark pink purple brick that made up the grand old city, which itself seemed to borrow its style from old Arabic cities, which oddly didn’t clash with the garb of the modern day. Her brown hair was up in a whimsical yet subtle style, woven atop her head. The style annoyed her, she preferred the feeling of her hair running down the back of her neck. Her dress was a light hot yellow, and more modest than the current garb.
The city was dark purple and red. Yellow and black tiled floors in certain enclaves transitioned to grey cobble in the squares, alleys and main walkways. The bricks, arches and intricately designed mosaics all carried a dark purple undertone that allowed for any bright colours to stand out when placed in front of it. Fountains lay at the centre of squares, adorned with flowers in favour of the current event. Vines appeared to grow in places, too, but their muted colours led to them fitting perfectly into the background. The city, beautiful as it was, was only a backdrop. A canvas for each visitor to paint.
It was dusk around, and her fiancé started leading her through the crowd, joined at the elbow with her head lying slightly against his shoulder. Suddenly, he departed, and it took her quite a while to realise she no longer had something to rest her head against. She was content, however, and drifted off to join a conversation between two men she couldn’t seem to place with names, but knew to be two of her fiancé’s old friends.
“Ah, yes, well, the plans are in motion-”
“But do you have the key, Maverick?”
“No, not yet, I thought before the part,y I might’ve been able to roam around to find it. Turns out security here is better than expected.”
“Goddamn it, did you really think that he was just going to leave it lying around? I trusted you to get this vault key-”
“Look, John, I want what's in there just as much as you do; all I need is for you to buy me a few moments to sneak upstairs.”
“Why, so you can see if it's under his dresser? Plus, he probably realised that you were sneaking around up there, chances are security has been tightened.”
“But I say we use her.”
“Use her, how exact—” She immediately moved backwards and rushed to find her fiancé when, all of a sudden, the lights focused on one point in the centre square.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you will,” Immediately, whoops and cheers erupted from the crowd as the remarkable Everett Sinclair took the stage. The applause and jubilation went on for quite a while, and Everet, after basking in enough glowing admiration, hushed them. He didn’t want all their energy wasted on such a menial few words. “My name is Everet Sinclair, your host this evening. Now the next few days will contain some of the most momentous occasions in my lifetime, as well as yours. What you all stand in today is the Grand Farah Almawtaa, the jewel of the Red Desert. It is here in this city of wonders that you can find any pleasure you desire. Whether it be a thrill to get your heart racing, a relaxing tune, a delicious meal, comedy to make your laughs rain down, or some special time with those you love, the Farah Almawtaa is here to provide,” This got a big cheer, but still Everet quieted them once more, wanting the biggest and longest cheer to be the one he was more excited about. “And of course, tomorrow, we will find the truth about why I built this place.” This was where the first true hush began. Beyond an eccentric billionaire with a taste for finer things and a knack for business, Everet always built something with a purpose, and people made social status on their analysis of the truth behind his latest venture. Rarely ever did he truly reveal it, but satisfactorily dropped hints favouring one theory or another. Either way, his pieces always had an art to them. He had built the Maxon Prison Complex in New York (maze of a place that secured prisoners safely with minimal guards required), the Prisca Theatre in Chicago (where around 3000 people could be seated, but designed in such a way that each box felt they were the only watchers), and the Mereen Casino in Vegas (The giver of life to vegas, a place that pioneered the techniques of getting people to forget where they are). Now here was his coup de grace, and only at the mark of his 27th year.
“Everyone, please. Tomorrow, I will be tying the knot with my dear fiancé, Mary.” Everyone roared, but Everett shushed them this time. Odd, normally, he didn’t shush. He seemed angry for a second, but quickly regained his winning smile and whispered into the microphone while staring into her eyes, “This is all for you, my dear, this city, its heart is yours, and your heart is its.” Everyone began roaring and cheering at that point. Whether it was competing for favour, out of a desire to shut him up so they could get to the attractions, or out of actual jubilation at their marriage, no one would know. Everett finished off his speech by lighting a sign in the indigo black sky.
Farah Almawtaa
Everett and Mary
1946
“Now, dear guests, venture forth.” Mary immediately darted towards Everett, grateful to be back in his arms. He hugged her tight, looped her arm around his, and directed her feet towards the city's centrepiece.
The Farah Almawtaa was built surrounding a lone peak. Around this peak were the main entertainment complexes. Each one had a view of the mountain, and so it was nearly impossible to get lost in the complexes. All you had to do was see the mountain, move towards it, and you’d find your way to the grand plaza, from which it was extremely easy to locate any major district by signage. The peak itself was where the hotels and residences were. They were grouped so that the ones at the bottom catered to the more upstart wealth, trying to get a taste for the finer things. While they’d cost you an arm and a leg, they were ‘the cheap seats’. The social ladder climbed as you got higher until you reached the peak. That was where the Sierra Engaño sat, standing proud overlooking the entire purple city and the red desert that surrounded it. And atop its highest floor, the 14th, was the Executive suite; Private Residence of Everet and the soon-to-be Mary Sinclair.
Everett led her to the music quarter. “Now, darling, I do just know how much you’ve been wanting to see Frederik and the Lions, and I quite couldn’t help mys-”
“My dear, there’s something wrong.” In a fleeting instant, Mary noticed a slight flick on the right side of his mouth, gone before she could even be sure she’d seen it.
“Whatever is the matter, sweetheart?” Suddenly, a flash sprang into Mary’s mind. For but an instant, there was a pack at her side as she lay screaming. “My dear?! Mary, what's?” Everett attempted to catch her, but she slid right through his hands until suddenly she was back in them. “Mary? Are you ok? What happened? What's wrong?”
“I-I don’t know, I was lying- and I was-.”
“Ah, an aftereffect.”
“I was screaming and-”
“Sometimes in the city, you can get experiences that aren’t strictly part of the program. They can initiate some randomised experience not really inspired by anything. It's a kink we’re still ironing out.” Mary considered for a moment.
“I saw two men, they were discussing robbing-” A flash of confusion, but for a second lit up Everett’s face, before being replaced by a wink and a smile.
“Aftereffects.”
Aftereffects. Mary caught the word and felt it slip right into a place in her mind. A vivid rush fell through:
“It’s the after ef ects, the after ef ects.”
“Sinclair?”
“No more after ef ects.”
“Everett, what's happening?” A pair of wild eyes.
“Mary.”
She returned from who she was.
“They’re particularly strong today, my love.”
“Best thing for it, continuous exposure”. His right hand twitched in his pocket. He had a considered look on his face at that moment, but just like before, it disappeared behind a wink and a smile.
~~~
The afterparty, of course, had to take place at the top of the lone peak. From the lavish suites of the Sierra Engaño, it was possible to see the skyline up to 60 miles around. The first 2 miles were dark purple-red city with its yellow and red lights, the next 58 were red desert stained purple by the setting sun. They were in a lounge room surrounded by windows, with a balcony beyond for those who could stand the cold. A fire roared in the hearth, reflecting off the stained yellow tiled floor. Red and gold cushions littered the floor with small poofs and sofas. No place in the room was uncomfortable. There was incense burning too, mixed with some illicit substances, no doubt, that brought a peaceful air to the venue. People were strewn haphazardly, yet comfortably, around. Mary lay on a heap of cushions, smoking a cigarillo with a bright laughter in her eyes and heart. Marxus, one of Everett’s assistants, was telling a most amusing story on his mother’s recent wardrobe additions and clothes shopping expeditions that got more scandalous and hilarious. Mary found the stories lifting her heart up, heating her body with laughter. The stories felt connected to some deeper irony in her that she couldn’t find. She knew something more here, she just didn’t know where.
“A margarita, Madam?” Mary opened her mouth and formed the words “yes, please,” but it only came out as a faint murmur. The waiter seemed unabashed and handed her the drink as though she had enthusiastically responded. She looked up at the waiter. His face was fuzzy and unknown. She couldn’t identify any part of him specifically, and yet she felt a look of slight shock form on her face before the waiter rushed back to the kitchen.
Mary looked across at Everett, wondering if this was another one of those aftereffects he mentioned. To her surprise, she found him looking right at her. His eyes left her, and his complexion morphed before she could deduce the emotion his face had held. What was going on? Why could she not see these faces? Why was she so complacent? All these registrations on her face that were not enacted or explained by her conscious mind.
“Are you enjoying the party?” She turned to find a familiar face staring right back at her. And with it every worry that had shown on her face was wiped clean.
“Well, it's quite a spectacular party, isn’t it, Maverik. How are you finding it?” “Well, our dear Mr Sinclair does indeed know how to put on a party, doesn’t he? But I think you miss the question, my dear friend, are you enjoying the party?”
Are you?
Are you enjoying the party?
Do you?
Will you?
Why are you?
He doesn’t care, Mary
He doesn’t care
He can’t
“Yes, I do think I am, you know,” And she lost those tendrils of shouts and mutterings like milk being poured into tea. It stuck this time. “Everett even procured Frederik and the Lions to play.” Maverik let out a real laugh, hearty and loud.
“And this is a city where many people could just as easily procure such extravagances. After all, you’ve forgotten its promise. Every pleasure you desire, Mary.”
Everything
“Now, Mary, I needed to have a word in private if that's ok with you.” That part wasn’t real. Mary didn’t arouse a suspicion directly, but it stuck with her. Despite her feeling herself rising, and her immediate desire to have a private word with Maverik, was all that consumed her. Yet she knew, somewhere, somewhere, she would never be convinced by those words, let alone have a complete desire to follow him.
~~~
She was scared, terrified. She was immediately accosted outside the party room. Her hands were behind her back, held there by a zip tie. A knife against her throat. Her mouth, immediately bound by a piece of tape. Except it wasn’t just the piece of tape. She didn’t feel her lips anymore. Her mouth wasn’t blocked; it was gone.
Everything was blurry. Grainy. Black, white, slightly greenish tinge. She couldn’t hear anymore. There was nothing. But she felt the words as much as she would’ve heard them. But they weren’t definite. They were guesses. Guesses she wouldn’t have guessed.
Move forward, now
Stop struggling
You want to get out of this quickly?
Then move bitch
Tears should’ve welled, but she didn’t have enough awareness of her eyes to be sure. What followed was an unusual situation. Like, even though she was not aware of any tears, someone was telling her they were there. Was pouring them onto her face for her.
For them
Move now
They were slowly directing her along the balcony. She could only see one environment after a time. They’d direct her past a certain point, and where she just was would disappear, and what was black grain a moment ago would become another grainy monotone section of the Sierra Engaño. She couldn’t make sense of any of this.
Sinclair wouldn’t guess it
Fucker’s gonna get his fortune whipped right out from under him
What about the fortune here
We might save her for later
And then, colour. Still grain, but now, although dull, colour. They were in his office. Everett’s office. Open the door
She didn’t even register her hand being forced onto the pad. She did not know what numbers she pressed. Then there was another voice. A much, much more insistent voice. One that came in from inside her. More terrifying, more familiar.
Why, Mary, why? What were they going to do?
Then, in all but a second, she was there. She was in the vault. Gold, oh the gold. And there was a pack next to her on the floor. Why was it all such a blur?
Then a breath of life fell into everything. No more grain. No more colour loss. What showed now was as vivid as life. Crystal clear in a way that not even the party had been. And Everett stood there now. Shotgun in hand. There was a gun at her head, too. Two of the robbers had her held. “Walk away, Sinclair, and maybe we’ll let her live.” Maverik had a new demeanour around him. It was clear, authoritative.
“I’m not moving Maverik, give me back my gold and my fiancé now or I’ll fire.” “You don’t seem familiar with how hostage situations work, Everett. I’m going to shoot her if you don’t get out of the way. What do you value more? Are you going to choose your gold over her?” Everything was real now. So much more real. The smell of blood and iron in her nose. The presence of her. She felt clear. She could feel every last inch of her body. Every part of her face, each muscle and how it moved in this moment. She felt the tears in her eyes, the wildness. The way her clothes were torn now in places and stained. Everything blurred out as she became this new bodily self-awareness that came over her. She felt fully now. She felt the face of utter sadness. She felt the
pleas form in her mouth. She wanted to live. She wanted to get back. She loved Evertt. She loved Everett.
Why
She fell back in her mind. Why did she love him? She couldn’t find it, that reason, that inner feeling, the buzz, the thing that made her attached to him. Everything was in place save for that. Every piece of his attractiveness, kindness, and intelligence. But she could not find anything admirable about him.
She cast back. Where had they met? At the opening of the Prisca in Chicago. He had been charming, told her a few jokes and asked to meet her for dinner the next day. She had said yes. What had she thought after? She didn’t know. What had she told her friends about him? She didn’t know. Where was she when Everett proposed? It was the opening of the Mereen Casino. He’d gotten down on one knee, and she’d been so happy. What had she told her mother afterwards? She didn’t know. How had she reacted towards her mother afterwards? She didn’t know. What were her feelings towards her mother? She didn’t know. How did she feel about herself? She didn’t know. She didn’t know. She didn’t know.
The bullet went through her skull.
~~~
The Farah Almawtaa was designed to cater to the pleasures of every inhabitant. It did its best to ensure that every guest got what they wanted. They wanted their favourite comedian to be there, they got it. They wanted Frederick and the Lions to play, or any other favourite band? They would hear their tones and improvisations as if they were real. They wanted to meet their favourite movie star? They would be engaged in as much conversation or otherwise as they wish. The issue was memories. Do you want to relive moments with your father after his death? You could. Wanted to see the last moments of your beloveds, see your son walk for the first time again after an accident? Hear words of love from a girl who left regardless? You could.
The key was the database under the mountain at the centre. It housed complete records of identities and events. It was here that Everett and the Lions’ every performance and interview were recorded. Every movie star had a section, every band, every personality, every performance or person one would want to see. They were brought to life every time. When dealing with memories, the Farah Almawtaa required the recollections for the scene. Then, for there to be greater deviation allowed, they’d add a touch of AI. A touch of consciousness. Couldn’t leave them in too long, though, otherwise they got a touch too self-aware. They might start hearing other things, true things. The real memory, free from bias. Unfortunate aftereffects.
Everett had compiled everything from that night. From his personal recollections, security camera footage, photos and recordings. Enough of it for it to last the few hours of its duration without too much breaking down. Still, Mary always realised in the end. Everett sighed, tears in his eyes again,
like he had every night. The continued tears and uncleanliness for months on end had stained his white tuxedo yellow. He brushed his now long hair with his grimy fingers. His face covered in dust and dirt, he turned his face again to the computer. He needed to see her again. He needed to feel her again. He could almost imagine the feeling of her touch when he brushed the hologram she became. His tears fell on the console once more. His Mary, his fiancée, the wife of his dreams, the one he loved so dearly.
~~~
Everett wandered the dust-riden abandoned city. Mice and rats scurried underneath his feet. The dead vines slowly decayed and rotted into the walls. The mosaics dulled with wear, age and dirt. The sun beat down with such heat and intensity that it rendered his neck a permanent shade of dark red, and his suit a constant sweaty mess. He found his spot in one of the arches leading into a square. The fountain was dry, flowers dead, brown and rotting. Flies adorned the plates of rotting food that had been there too long. Everett occasionally would shoo away the flies so that he might find sustenance as well, on the rare occasion that food was one of his priorities. This day, like many others before, there was only one thing that could sustain him. He waited, dutifully, in that archway until the sun was sent away, leaving its purple impression on the otherwise black sky.
“Come now, baby, this party is for you!”
