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July 13, 2007



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Jim: Senus Fugit IV

Special Agent Clancy looked up from the manila folder. “Why do we call him the Heisenberg killer?”

“The nerds at HQ named him that,” Lt. Upton replied around a smoldering Marlboro. “From some scientist’s theory that you either know where an atomic particle is, or which way it’s heading, but you can’t know both.”

“It fits, though,” Clancy grimaced. “We know this ‘Heisenberg’ guy is heading generally east, killing as he goes. But when we deduce where he’ll strike next, he’s off killing someplace else.”

Upton stubbed out the cigarette. “Nineteen completely random murders! Dammit, Clancy, we need a lead!”

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David: PING!

The quarter flipped upward through the air, my fate resting on the subtle interplay of mass, gravity, and angular momentum.

Heads, and I would move to Arizona, take the chance on that job at the startup, and reboot my entire life.

Tails, and I stay here, in my current job, which is unfulfilling but pays more, and not leave my family and friends behind.

The coin caught the light as it rotated. Rising, slowing. It found apogee, then began its inevitable, twirling descent.

I reached out to catch it.

The phone rang. I turned my head, and missed the catch.

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Ted: Schrödinger's Machine

I really only excel at three things. Two of them I can't get paid for though. Not legally, anyway.

But the third thing is gambling. Doesn't matter the game. Doesn't matter the mechanism. If true randomness is the root of the game, I can beat it.

I have been thrown out of every casino at Atlantic City and Reno. The city of Las Vegas sent police to my hotel to escort me out of town under protective custody.

Ranier tried to have me killed.

But damn if I didn't get the capital I needed for this.

Time to test it.

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