#13 – Spade
Jake
In my time fighting the Yeerks, I've had to do a lot of bluffing. I've gotten pretty good at it.
You can say, "Oh, war is nothing like poker. You're stupid to compare the two." I would tell you that you're wrong. Dead wrong. War is just like poker. Sometimes you just don't have the cards, but your enemy doesn't know that. Sometimes you can run a bluff, and if you run it just right, you can make your enemy fold the winning hand. The first time they call you and you have to show your bluff, you lose all of your credibility. You'll get called again and again after that, and the bluff basically gets taken out of your arsenal.
I've run a few successful bluffs in my time. I've never been called. I didn't let that make me cocky, though, because I knew the day was coming when I'd get called out.
Several explosions rocked the Pool Ship. Somebody said, "We are without propulsion, Visser."
(I noticed,) the Visser said sarcastically, but it was without any of his usual venom. Visser One knew he'd already been beaten. He'd folded. He was out of the hand. (No engines. And all our brothers in the Pool murdered by these humans.)
"We are being hailed."
(Of course,) the Visser said without surprise or hope. (By all means. We must play it out.)
I saw my brother's face appear on the viewscreen. His expression was the same exact one he used to wear when he'd drop the winning jump shot at the buzzer. Elated. Victorious. "You seem to be experiencing some engine trouble, Visser," he gloated.
(The Empire will track you down and kill you. You do understand that, I hope,) the Visser told him, but it was entirely without conviction. They were just words.
"Oh, I doubt it. I think the Empire will have its hands full," Tom chuckled. "The Andalite fleet is rather close by. It's possible I misled you on that point."
I knew it when he spotted me. His face went pale. His eyes widened in surprise. "You're not dead!" he snapped.
This was it. All the cards were on the table. This was the big hand, where everybody's money was in the middle. The cards on the table formed a scary scenario for all involved. The best hand in poker is the royal flush, in spades. The face up community cards were the parts of that hand – the ten, jack, queen, and king of spades. The only thing missing was the ace. Who had the ace in the hole? Me? Tom? Neither of us?
I could bluff like I had the ace, but the stakes were too high. Tom would not fold. He'd call me and lose his shirt before he did that. In poker and in war, when the stakes are high enough, bluffing isn't an option. Sometimes you actually have to have the goods.
It was going to cost me. It was going to cost me big, but I'd rigged this game. Before the hand had been dealt, I'd shoved an ace of spades up my sleeve. All I had to do now was play it, and the hand was mine. The game was over. I would win.
I would lose, but I would also win.
Could I show it? Could I play my ace?
Tom barked orders at his crew. "Bring us around to target the Pool Ship's bridge! Now! Now! Bring us around!"
Showdown time. Time to show 'em if you got 'em.
I flipped my ace of spades onto the table.
(Rachel. Go.)