"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 4

This is the fourth (and anxiously awaited final) installment of a short story written under one of my pen names.

"Numbers Game," by Duncan Cary Palmer, is my original work. It was first published in a Science Fiction anthology of the Houston Writer's Guild, "Tides of Possibility," available from Amazon.

In case you missed the beginning, please start here:
"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 1

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Take A Number; It's a Statistical World...
Photo courtesy of Paul Bergmeir and http://unsplash.com

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“OK, time for another choice.” I say.

“Let's see now...”

Looking ahead a ways, I see one of many steeply arching bridges that cross the river. “Shall we leave the Riverwalk? We'll turn left at the bridge and get out of here.”

“No,” Suze says determinedly. “We're crossing that bridge.”

Now I start to feel a bit peculiar. If our theory is correct, with each counter-selection that Susie makes, we enter another universe, or at least a part of this universe, that is half as likely as where we were scant moments before.

“We're crossing that bridge.”
Photo by Stuart Seeger, Creative Commons License Attribution 2.0

As we turn right to climb up and over the bridge, it seems as though the traffic on the other side has now diminished to a trickle. I look down from the crest of the bridge, and the water looks a bit odd; am I imagining things, or are there more ripples and eddies on the north side of the river than on the south? Wow, this is really happening, isn't it! But, for the final lynchpin of my plan to work, we're going to have to devise a sequence of decisions that at some juncture put cash in our hands.

“How do we capitalize on this?” I ask. “What can we do to put some money in our pockets?”

“Well... use your head. What sort of things are at the intersection of wealth and probability?”

“Oh, I don't know... what about the stock market?”

“Yep, that's one... but not the sole example. There are all kinds of markets out there. Commodities, currency exchanges, derivatives, futures, actuarial tables... I could go on and on.”

“Don't go on, I'll pick one. I choose the Euro to Dollar forex market.”

“No,” Susie responds, countermanding my pick, “I choose games of chance.”

I feel as if the world tilts again,

and abruptly realize we won't need to test our theory – with this latest probability halving, it's now become painfully obvious that we must be right. Looking at the river beside us, I see a thick layer of ice forming on the surface. I shift my gaze thirty yards further down the river where in stark contrast, the water is boiling and clouds of steam are rising from the surface. In between, the sidewalk is wet where a dozen fish flop vigorously, having tried to escape the apocalyptic changes.

“Sure, that's a thought. Except gambling's still illegal in the state of Texas.”

“Don't forget the Texas Lotto.”

Lotto! Of course! But I'm getting really nervous now; I'd better be careful not to pick the optimum lotto game; when it comes down to making the final selection of precisely which lottery game to play, it must be Susie's decision in order to maximize our take. I think fast. “We can buy a fist full of Texas Two Step tickets.”

Picking up on my lead – bright girl that she is – my Sue replies, “Absolutely not. We're going to play Powerball.”

Texas PowerBall Lotto
Photo courtesy of Léolo Lozone and http://pixabay.com

As I hear Susie make the ideal choice, I start to smile; but the next instant, I'm shaken by the severity of a change all around us. I literally feel the earth move under my feet. Small puffs of concrete spring up, ejected at random points from the sidewalk beneath us. What had I recently read on physics.org about the constant 'k' and differential expansion?

I worry that we might not be too many probability-halving steps away from irreversibly disturbing the fundamental wheelworks of nature. Could we be on the verge of destabilizing matter itself? It's beginning to snow, but Susie doesn't seem to notice. Maybe I should simply concentrate on putting one foot in front of another for now, at least until we get to where we can buy a Powerball ticket?

“Susie, look around. If you make any more decisions, we might not survive the further skewing of reality. Better just head for a bar and buy that ticket.”

“Let's go to Drink Texas!”

Oh, No! She's not hearing me. Set on a course of action, I've rarely been able to divert Sue. Her emphatic choice starts the sky darkening, and I'm suddenly having a hard time breathing. Ever hear the expression “You could cut the atmosphere with a knife?”

Buildings on either side of us ripple outward like images in a fun-house mirror. Birds are dropping to the pavement. My head is in a vise. I've got to reverse probabilities again, and fast.

“No!” I gasp, “The Leapin' Lizard, the Lizard!” As though in response to my veto, a bit of light returns to the sky, walls straighten, and I can breathe again. That was close. Is this what it's like to tamper with reality at the quantum level? We get back onto a now empty Commerce and start jogging for the Leapin' Lizard Pub at full speed. Success, a mere block or two away.

Approaching the pub, we notice a sign hung in the window. To my dismay, it reads “Gone Fishin'” How could our plan be foiled, and as easily as this?

“Damn, what a disaster. How can we get this close to our dream, and still miss it? We've got to buy a lottery ticket, but the world's out to lunch.”

Have you ever been so near a breakthrough you can taste it, only to hit some insurmountable obstacle? You'll understand, then, how I feel at this dismal turn of events. I'm simply distraught, groaning inside. Happily, Susie derails my depressing train of thought.

“No, Babe. We won't have to buy a ticket.”

“What? How so?”

“Look.”

Texas PowerBall Tickets
Photo courtesy of http://mix931fm.com

There, not twenty feet away, a dust-devil is swirling leaves and scraps of paper along the sidewalk. Susie's already madly dashing in that direction when I recognize that one of the bits of flotsam is a Texas Lotto Powerball ticket. Should I charge for it as well? In the extreme, borderline-impossible world of this instant, neither of us dare risk another careless choice. We teeter on a knife edge, a dangerous cusp; lean in one direction, and we are stuck with the common, the mundane, a world where our chances of winning big are vanishingly small. Tilt in the other, and we could topple into a hostile universe where life itself is impossible.

As I draw up short and let Suze choose to grab the ticket, the skies again begin to dim. Good. Right on the edge. But can we pull back from this precarious brink?

“Got it, Baby?” I pant. “Hang on! Don't let it go, but follow my lead.” Ticket now safely in Susie's hand, our one priority is to unravel this probability thread before the universe itself dissolves. Without hesitation, I reverse course down into the Riverwalk again, and re-cross the bridge.

“What do we do now?” Sue asks. Nice. I'm back to wearing the pants in this relationship, or at least where I can make a decision or two. She understands that we can't stretch the universe any further and survive.

“Let's leave the Riverwalk and go to Denny's.” As we start up the walk to the street, I hear a cracking sound. Turning my head, I see ice breaking up, starting to flow with the river again. Yep, the world is getting back on track.

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What, I ask you, are the odds,

that we'd be walking down the street one day, pick up a lotto ticket blowing in the wind, and hit the biggest Powerball/Power Play jackpot ever? Maybe – if you're a gambling cynic like I used to be – you think the chances are every bit as good as for the sap who actually buys lottery tickets... No, I don't think that way any more. Becoming a billionaire overnight has changed my perspective on a lot of things.

Life is pretty good here in the South Pacific. Days are clear and sunny, filled with surfing, inventing, and exploring. Susie and I work on what we want, when we want, as much or as little as we want. I think my Suze may be creating a new branch of statistical math, but I confess that I haven't been following too closely. Tropical nights are shirt-sleeve warm and filled with gourmet dinners, walks on the beach, time spent in each others' arms, and pleasant dreams.

What do you suppose the chances are that Susie and I would be the owners of the most successful shave ice stand on the island? Just askin'. Of course, it's a trivial hobby, but it does provide employment for a few of the islanders.

Kicking Back in the South Pacific
Photo courtesy of Jasper Boer and http://unsplash.com

Neither of us has been able to figure out how it happened, or why, but as nearly as we can tell from here – comfortably far from civilization as we are – the massive, inexplicable statistical anomaly still persists, no let-up in sight. We try not to let it worry us, though. All we have to do, day by day, is maintain that careful, very delicate balance between my decisions and hers... All we have to do is keep on playing that numbers game.

END

Have you enjoyed "Numbers Game?"

I look forward to hearing your reactions in the comments below!

In case you missed any of the earlier parts, here are links to all four installments:
"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 1
"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 2
"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 3
"Numbers Game" by Duncan Cary Palmer - Part 4

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