Энди Вейр: Randomize

“I didn’t understand that at all.”

“All that matters is that the system has a minor performance optimization that creates the security hole we’re going to take advantage of.” She returned to the living room and sat at the computer. “Now is as good a time as any to get the numbers…”

“Wait, what?” he said. “Now? I don’t understand.”

She typed a few commands on the console. “Entanglement is a two-way street. I can measure one storage unit’s values right now, and the others will be the same whenever the Babylon measures them.”

“So you’re basically… generating the keno numbers for Sunday night right now?”

“Yes.” She hit the “Enter” key. A stream of numbers showed up on-screen. She stared at the screen intently, memorizing the output. Ganesh had blessed her with an excellent memory.

“Those are it? The numbers?”

“Yes,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on the screen.

“You’re memorizing them?” he asked. “Why not just save them to a file or take a pic with your phone?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No digital trail. Everything is purely in my mind from here on out.”

“Ah, right. Makes sense.”

She closed her eyes and visualized the numbers. All twenty of them were clear in her mind. She opened her eyes to double-check against the screen, and she’d gotten them all correct. Perfect.

Prashant stirred his kheer. Uncharacteristic of him not to dig right in.

She turned the swivel chair toward her husband. “What’s wrong, honey? You still seem unsettled.”

He fiddled with the spoon. “Does it have to be you placing the bet?”

“Of course it does,” she said. “They will know you as the man who set up their computer.”

“Couldn’t we just pay a college student to do it or something?”

She frowned and shook her head. “Accomplices add complications. I’m the only one we can trust to place the bet.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“It will be fine, husband. Eat your kheer.”

“Okay.” He took a bite and loosened up. Sweet food put him in a good mood.

At times he was a complicated man, but at other times he could be very simple. Finding those simple moments and bringing him joy was one of Sumi’s greatest pleasures.

She smiled as she watched her husband eat.

Sumi sipped her lemonade in the keno lounge. The crowd was a little lighter than it would be at peak hours. Though midnight was still a very active time in a Vegas casino. The usual cacophony of dings, beeps, and buzzes filled the air.

She held the winning ticket—well, what would hopefully become the winning ticket—in her hand among a sheaf of other tickets that would surely lose. It would be suspicious if she bought only one.

Any number of things could go wrong. The long-term storage unit or the computer itself could have a software glitch that would require re-randomizing all the qbits. The settings for the coherence check could be wrong, and it might have already happened or not started yet. Then her numbers would be no more likely to win than any others.

To blend in as a tourist, she wore an even more traditional sari than usual. A little more Old World, with brass jewelry here and there. She took photos with her phone. What tourist wouldn’t?

A peal of MIDI music filled the lounge to announce the next draw was about to begin. She glanced at the big display above the keno betting desk. She gripped the sheaf of tickets tighter.

The cheesy animated display showed a grid of keno numbers drawn in a cuneiform style—like a clay tablet from the ancient world. The numbers wiggled around in their boxes while a Babylonian archer beside the grid nocked an arrow and took aim. It was cartoonish and silly. If all went well, the first number would be a nine.

The animated archer loosed his arrow, and it flew in an arc over the grid. It struck the nine. Sumi breathed a sigh of relief.

After that, things proceeded according to plan. The rest of the numbers fell into place as expected. Sumi played the shocked-and-overjoyed-winner role and excitedly ran to the betting desk to report her win.

The win was large enough to warrant calling over the floor manager, who verified the ticket. And then the security tape was reviewed to make sure she was the one who had purchased it. They asked her to wait while they set up a photo shoot. The manager of the casino even came down.

Rutledge, the manager, shook Sumi’s hand. “Congratulations,” he said.

The pair stood in front of a bright sign that read KENO 9-SPOT PROGRESSIVE JACKPOT: $741,299. A casino photographer took pictures.

“Thank you,” she said in a thick Indian accent.

“How did you pick the winning numbers?” asked Rutledge.

“I just pick random,” she said. “I only wanted a tickets to show the friends of mine in Mumbai. I never think I would win.”

“What do you plan to do with the money?”

She smiled. “I will give many of it to my family. They are poor. It will help them very a lot. And I will buy a big American car for driving with back in India.”

“That will be all for now,” Rutledge said to the photographer.

The photographer headed off, and Rutledge led Sumi to the elevator banks. “Ms. Singh, I’m sure this is all unfamiliar territory to you. I’ll help guide you through it.”

“You are important man,” Sumi said. “I do not need such an important man to help.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said. “And it’s good publicity for the Babylon. A big win is the best advertising a casino can have.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rutledge,” she said. “What are we now to do?”

He pressed the elevator button. “First you’ll have to speak to a representative from the IRS. They’ll want their share right now. We’ll pay them their portion directly and issue you a cashier’s check for the rest. Or, if you prefer, we can give you cash.”

She laughed. “Oh no. Not cash. I cannot walk under so much cash.”

The doors opened and the pair entered. He swiped his key card on the reader. Various floor buttons that had been illuminated all shut off, and the highest button lit up. They rode to the top of the building without interruption.

He led her from the elevator bank through an empty mahogany office. “Sorry, my secretary is home right now,” he explained. “It’s almost one a.m., after all.”

“Of course,” she said.

He opened one of the ornate double doors to his office, and the lights turned on automatically. He beelined to the wet bar. “Can I offer you a drink?”

She followed him in. “I do not drink, thank you.”

“What a pity.”

“Where is IRS man?” she asked.

He gestured for her to sit on the plush leather couch. “Oh, he’s not here.” He poured himself two fingers of scotch.

“Why not? Does the government not want their money?”

“There won’t be any money.” He sipped his drink and picked up a folder from his desk. “I have very thorough security people. Did you know we do a full background check on anyone who wins more than one hundred thousand dollars?”

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t know that.”

“Your accent seems to have disappeared.” He opened the folder. “Do you have any idea how many Sumi Singhs there are in the world? A lot, believe me. But only one of them was a child genius who went on to earn PhDs in physics, mathematics, and quantum theory. Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think? A talented quantum physicist winning my nine-spot keno progressive four days after we install a quantum computer. Oh, and side note, you’re married to the guy who installed it .”