"He's got loaded dice in here, somehow." Archie pointed an accusing
finger at the other man. "They don't fall right. There's something
wrong with them--"
The other man snarled. "So you aren't winning any more--so what? You
brought the dice in yourself."
"But the odds aren't right. There's something funny going on."
Jeff turned back to the dice, his mind still screaming, sensing that
disaster hung in the air like a heavy sword. His own game moved on,
faster and faster. Somewhere across the room another fight broke out,
and another. Several men dropped out of games and stood up against
the walls. Their eyes were wide with anger as they watched the other
players. And then Jeff rolled three sixes, fourteen times in a row. He
tossed the dice down in front of his gaping opponents with a curse and
walked shakily back to the corner. The whole room spun around his head.
_Suddenly, in this room, probabilities had gone mad._ He could feel the
shifting instability of the atmosphere, as real and oppressive to him
as if it were solid and he were attempting to wade through it. This was
what had been bothering him, plaguing him. Quite suddenly and without
explanation, something impossible had begun to happen. Cards had begun
to fall in unbelievable sequences, repeating themselves with idiotic
regularity; dice had defied the laws of gravity as they spun on the
tables and floor.
A hubbub filled the room as the players stopped and stared at each
other, unable to comprehend the impossible that was happening before
their eyes. And then Blackie was passing Jeff, her face flushed, a
curious light of desperation in her eyes.
An impulse passed through Jeff's mind. He reached out an arm, stopped
the girl. "Game," he said sharply.