The Grand Wheel

It became clear to Scarne that this was nearly always how life originated. Without it, the universe would be very nearly biologically sterile – the randomness of nature gave the necessary chemical combinations a prohibitively low probability. In almost every case it was a mathematical game, played between groups of opposing intelligences, that supplied the missing key – providing not only the initial impetus but also influencing the type of life that eventually would develop.

Surprising though this was, the revelation quickly paled into insignificance for Scarne. Because the Wheel card contained even more knowledge. Vaster and vaster became the vista. He saw that there were games and players as far surpassing the Galactic Wheel as it in turn surpassed the Grand Wheel. The game he was engaged on could create an entire biota; yet there were other, bigger games. There were games that could trigger the formation of whole clusters of galaxies. On a fundamental level, there were games that constructed matter and universes out of the gulf of pure randomness.

There was no end to it. On level after level were found the hierarchies of power, merging in an indefinable series into the sea of non-causation. Dom was right – the gods were real. They were the conscious forces that gamed and gambled in the deeper randomatic levels. Scarne could only wonder if he was really meant to see all this: if it was a legitimate part of the game. By projecting into the card he had effectively played the card; but he could not avoid the feeling that something had gone wrong and his perceptions had been carried too far.

Then he felt himself falling. There was roaring all around him.

He was there again.

He had dropped out of structured existence and back into the sea of chaos. It roared all around him, generating numbers and again dissolving them.

But he remained there only moments, because the strain was by this time too great, and his consciousness failed altogether.

When Scarne passed out, the big alien who had set up the game reappeared. He stepped round the table to look down at Scarne, who had first slumped on to the table then slid to the floor, scattering his cards as he went.

‘Your friend has been interfered with,’ he said to Dom. ‘I detect foreign agencies in his blood.’

Dom rose from the table and walked round to frown down at Scarne. ‘His enemies injected him with an addictive drug,’ he said by way of possible explanation. ‘But I got my biochemists to cure him.’

‘They did not entirely succeed, it seems. The rigours of the game have caused a recurrence of its effects. However, I think they will prove to be temporary.’

‘In view of his condition, it was unwise of him to play so powerful a card,’ one of the galactic players observed, glancing at the Wheel, now lying face up on the table.

Scarne heard these latter words as he regained consciousness. Assisted by Dom, he got unsteadily to his feet.

His first impressions were the same as those he had experienced after receiving the mugger jackpot on Io. Everything seemed unnaturally vast. The domed room was as big as a solar system. The untranslated alien’s face, bent to regard him from its superior height, seemed impossibly foreign and gigantic.

But this time the illusion wore off fairly quickly. Scarne stumbled to his chair and sat down, resting his head on his hand.

‘Sorry about that,’ he muttered.

‘This game, at any rate, would appear to be null and void,’ the alien remarked. ‘The cards have been revealed.’ He turned to Dom. ‘Since your friend would not be advised to continue, perhaps you would care to select another partner. You have the option of calling quits now, of course – though half your holdings would remain in our hands.’

‘No – we play to the limit,’ Dom shot back, a degree of passion in his voice. ‘But a different game.’

He looked down at the disarrayed table, then turned back to the bulking alien. ‘I want to stake the whole of my remaining holdings on one more game – double or quits. If I win, we can continue. If not …’ He shrugged.

The alien paused, reflecting. ‘And the game?’

‘One without any skill in it.’ Dom seemed agitated. He swallowed. ‘Let’s do some real gambling. With stakes as high as they’ll go. Any random fifty-fifty game will do it. The toss of a coin –’

Scarne twisted round in his chair and regarded Dom with horror.

No, he was about to shout, let’s carry on playing. At least we might have a chance! But then he saw that Dom, by his own lights at any rate, was once again right. A fifty-fifty game was their best chance of coming out of this intact. They were being out-played by the galactics.

The two alien players were poker-faced as the untranslated galactic considered.

‘Are you agreed?’ Dom demanded.

‘It would be unlike us to refuse a challenge,’ the galactic murmured. ‘Even though, on present showing, it removes our current advantage.’

‘Any limit on the bank?’ Dom queried.

‘None.’