Chapter 6

Jeff reached out and took the dice from the girl’s hand. “Put them away, Blackie,” he said softly, “You don’t have to prove anything. I know--”

“Game,” she repeated harshly, shaking her head.

“Look. Think a minute. Back there, do you know what happened in that room?”

Her eyes caught his and were wide with fear. “Game,” she whispered, her hands trembling. “You’ve got to play me!”

He shrugged, his eyes tired as he watched her face. He took the dice and rolled them out on the table. A three, a four and a five fell; he saw her eyes flash across the table, taking in the sequence. Then her hand reached out, grasped the dice, gave them a throw. The hostility in her mind struck out at him, reinforcing the terrible dread that he already felt. He fought the hostility, staring at the dice, his hands gripping the edge of the table. And the dice danced and settled down: a three, a four and a five...

The girl’s eyes widened, staring first at him, then back at the dice. Slowly she reached out, took the cube with the five showing, sent it bouncing across the table. It spun and bounced--and settled down once again with the five exposed.

Jeff felt the blast of bitter fear strike out from the girl’s eyes. The room seemed to scream with the tension he felt. She took the dice with trembling hands, threw them out hard and clenched her fists as they fell. The three and four settled out immediately. Jeff watched the third cube, spinning on one corner, spinning ... spinning ... He felt his muscles grow tense, his mind screaming, tightening down as he stared at the little cube. It was as though an iron fist held his brain in its palm and was slowly, slowly squeezing. And the little cube continued, ridiculously, to spin and spin, until it quite suddenly flipped over onto its side and lay still with the five exposed.

Blackie gave a choked scream, her face pasty white. “Then it was you.” She choked, staring at him as if he were a ghost. “You were doing it deliberately in there, throwing off the odds, twisting things around, turning the dice against me.”

Jeff shook his head violently. “No, no, not me--us--both of us. We were fighting each other, without knowing it--”

Her hand went up to her mouth, choking off the words as she stared at him. Jeff stared at the dice, his whole body trembling, huge drops of sweat running down his forehead. And as he watched, the dice hopped about on the table, like jumping beans, turning over and over, jerkily, spinning on their edges in a horrible, incredible little dance. Jeff shook his head, his eyes wide with horror as he watched the dice.

“You knew it all along,” the girl choked. “You came in there just to torment me, to show me up--”

“No, no.” Jeff turned wide eyes on her. “I didn’t know it, until I picked up the dice in that room. Something drove me to do it. I didn’t know what I was doing until all of a sudden the dice were doing what I wanted them to do--” He broke off, panting. “I never knew it, I never dreamed it.” His eyes sought the girl’s, pleading. “I didn’t understand it; I couldn’t help it. I just knew that something wrong was going on. And then I knew that somebody was fighting me. There was a tension in it. I felt it. I knew somebody was tampering with the dice. Then when I got near you, I knew it was you.”

The girl’s face was working, tears welling up in her eyes. “I had to--I had to win with them.”

“Then you knew you were doing it!” Jeff stared at her. “And when both of us started tampering, opposing each other, the probabilities governing the games went wild, completely wild.”

The girl was sobbing, her face in her hands. “I could always control it. It always worked. It was the only thing I could do that came out right. Everything else has always gone wrong.” She sobbed like a baby, her shoulders shaking as she choked out great, racking sobs.

Jeff leaned forward, almost cruelly, his eyes burning at her. “When did you find out you could ... make dice fall the way you wanted them to?”

The girl shook her head helplessly. “I didn’t know it. I didn’t have any idea, until I came here. It was the only thing I could win at. Everything else I lost at. All my life I’ve been losing.”

“What have you been losing?”

“Everything, everything--everything I touch turns black, goes sour, somehow.”

“But what, what?” Jeff leaned toward the girl, his voice hoarse. “Why did you come here? How did you get here?”

The girl’s sobs broke out again, her shoulders shaking in anguish. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Oh, I could take it, up to a limit, but then I couldn’t stand it any more. Everything I tried went wrong; everyone that was near me went wrong too. Even the rackets wouldn’t work with me around.”

“What rackets?”

Her voice was weak and cracking. “Any of the rackets. I’ve been in a dozen, two dozen, ever since the war. Dad was killed in the first bombing of the Fourth War, when I was just a kid--twelve, thirteen, I can’t remember now. He died trying to get us out of the city and through to the Defense area north of the Trenton section. Radiation burns got him, maybe pneumonia, I don’t know. But it got Dad first and Mom later.”

She straightened up and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “We never did get out of the devastated area. We were killing dogs and cats for food for a while. Then when things did get straightened out, we ran into the inflation, the burned-out crops, the whole rat-race. The dirty breaks were coming in hard then. First we were guerrillas, then we were bushwhackers. Then we came into the city again and started shaking down the rich ones that came back from the mountains where they hid.”

“But you came in here,” Jeff grated. “Why here, if you were doing so well in rackets?”

“I wasn’t. Can’t you understand? The luck--it was running wrong, worse and worse all the time. And then I got hooked on dope. Narcotics control was all shot to pieces during the war; heroin was all over the place. But they knew I had this hard-luck jinx. They caught me on it, until I was hooked bad.”

She shrugged, her face a study in pathetic hopelessness. “They hauled me in here. Schiml sold me his bill of goods. What could I lose? I was so tired, I didn’t care. I didn’t care if they jolted my brains loose, or what they did to me. All I wanted was to eat and get off the dope and get enough cash so I could try for something decent, where hard luck couldn’t touch me. And I didn’t really care if I never got out.”

“But with the dice you made out.”

“Oh, yes, with the dice--” The girl’s eyes flickered for a moment. “I found out I could make them sit up and talk for me. I played it cozy, didn’t let anybody catch on. But they always worked for me, until tonight--”

Jeff nodded, his face white. “Until tonight, when you found out you were fighting for control. Because tonight I found out they’d talk for me too. And you couldn’t beat me with them.”

Her voice was weak. “I--I couldn’t budge them. They fell the way you called them.”

“It isn’t possible, you know,” Jeff said softly. “Every time they’ve tried to prove it was, they’ve found some loophole in the study of it, something wrong somewhere. Nobody’s ever proved a thing about psychokinesis.”

The girl grinned mirthlessly. “They’ve been trying to prove it here since the year one. Every now and again they get hot on it. They’ve just tested somebody that’s got them excited and they’ll be starting the whole works over again.”

Jeff leaned over, his eyes blazing. “Yes, yes, who’s that person?”

“I don’t know. I just heard it. A new recruit, I guess.”

“A recruit named Conroe?”

Her eyes widened at the virulence in his voice. “I--I don’t know, I don’t know. I’ve only heard. I don’t even know if there is such a person.”

“Where can I find out?”

Again the fear was in her eyes. “I--I don’t know.”

Jeff’s voice was tense, his eyes fixed on the girl’s face in desperate eagerness. “Look, you’ve got to help me. I know he’s here. I must find him. I saw him this afternoon. Remember when the guards brought me in here? I saw him on the stairs. I chased him and lost him, but he’s here. He’s hiding, running away from me. I’ve got to find him, somehow. Please, Blackie, you can help me.”

Her eyes were wide on his face. “What do you want with him? Why are you after him? I don’t want to get mixed up in anything--”

“No, no, it won’t mix you up. Look, I want to kill him. Short and sweet, nothing more--just kill him. I want to send one bullet into his brain, watch his face splatter out, watch his skull break open. That’s all I want, just one bullet--”

Jeff’s voice was low, the words wrenched from his throat, and the hatred in his eyes was poisonous as it washed over the girl’s face. “He haunts me, for years he’s haunted me.” Jeff’s voice dropped, the words breaking the stillness of the room in a hoarse, terrible cadence. “He killed my father. This Conroe--he butchered my father like an animal, shot him down in cold blood. It was horrible, ruthless. Conroe was the assassin. He killed my father without a thought of mercy in his mind. And I loved my father, I loved him with all the love I had.” He stared at the girl. “I’ll kill the man that killed my father if I have to die myself in the killing.”

“And that man is here?”

“That man is here. I’ve hunted him for years. This was his last resort, his final desperate gamble for escape. He had nowhere else to turn. I’ve got the outside tied up so that he doesn’t dare to leave. Now I’ve got to track him down in here. I’ve got to find him and kill him, before I’m caught, before I’m tested and classified. I’ve got to move fast and I need help. I need help so much.”

The girl leaned toward him, her eyes dark as she stared at him. “The dice,” she said softly. “I’ve been playing it cozy. I still could--if you’ll let me.”

His eyes widened. “Anything you say,” he said. “We’ll play it cozy together. But I’ve got to have floor plans of the place, information on how to avoid the guards. I’ve got to know where their records are kept, their lists and rosters and working plans.”