Free The Search for the Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart

girl?’
    ‘Sure, there’s a chance,’ said Lyman, tipping forward in his chair and vaguely shuffling among some of the papers on his desk. ‘But not much of a one. She gave us a phone number in Pennsylvania where she said she was going, but when I phoned there a week ago to ask her something, they said she’d never showed up and they wanted nothing to do with her.’
    ‘Can I have that phone number?’ I asked.
    Lyman was still groping absently at his papers.
    ‘The number?’ he said and finally looked up at me. ‘Of course not,’ he added. ‘We have to protect our sources.’

13
    More than two months before Larry had been visited by the FBI Jeff had known he could take it no more. He saw clearly that there was some Malignant Force permeating the financial markets that was perversely working to thwart his every move. Whenever he or Larry would be making a profit on a trade Jeff would be furiously wondering how this Malignant Force was using this temporary profit to trick them into a much greater loss. Jeff had concluded then that every profitable trade was in fact a demonic trick to lure Jeff on, to give him a false sense of hope, to make him believe that he still might possibly make money as a futures trader.
    He couldn’t tell Larry about his new discovery. Larry was an agnostic. Larry had no sense of the Divine which moved through and controlled all things, especially the Malignant Divine. But Jeff knew. Jeff was a believer. The Gods did not take kindly to mere humans presuming to be able to predict the future. And what was futures trading if not the arrogant act of a man thinking he could predict the direction of the price of something? The Greeks called it
hubris.
The Hebrews called it pride. The results were the same: the arrogant presumer ended up a cripple, a crackpot or a
clutz.
    Jeff had finally decided to do something to end his madness. No longer would he challenge the Gods’ domain over the future. He would never again presume to know something that only the Gods could know. He would become religious. He would honour the Gods. He would acknowledge that only factual knowledge should or could be used to take an investment position. He solemnlyvowed that he would never voluntarily trade again except on the basis of privileged insider information. That, he knew, the Gods could accept.
    Cheating was not presumptuous. Indeed, the Gods expected it of man. Cheating was a man’s way of acknowledging that he knew no way of beating the laws of chance. Cheating was, in fact, the rational man’s answer to the great Mystery of Life. Some men of course simply surrendered to the laws of chance and let themselves be buried by random events, content to be rich or poor on the basis of something no more purposeful than the toss of a coin. Not Jeff. Not a full American. The American way was to attack the unexpected, eliminate the unexpected, control the unexpected. In the futures markets there was only one reliable way: you cheated.
    It was an incredible breakthrough for Jeff when he had this religious conversion. He felt like a gay must feel who, after many years of trying to go straight, suddenly and finally gives in to his deepest desires, and becomes what he fundamentally is. He’d known for almost a year of a certain person, X, who was able to give insider information to certain people, information which tended to make those certain people look very brilliant to others who had no such means of being certain. It had filled Jeff with gloomy and agonized anguish to know that Pete Riddles of Shearson was getting promoted and doubting his bonus because he accepted that certain person’s info, while Jeff, corrupted by the influence of Larry, still desperately believed that intelligence and skill could permit him to triumph over the future and futures and the Gods.
    But then, luckily, Larry’s system had begun to produce losses with almost the same dull consistency that it used to produce gains. The Gods were