Would this be the last poker game—with all
life at stake and every card a mere deuce?
MacPherson shuffled the cards over and over again. His hands were almost steady.
"Want to place a limit on the bets?" he asked.
His two colleagues who had made the night drive with him from the University said nothing, but Rothman laughed.
"Today?" he said. "Today, the sky's the limit."
"What's wrong with poker?" demanded MacPherson.
"Poker? Nothing. I know—It must be the test. Total conversion of matter to energy. Not just a minute percentage any more—total conversion. They've finished the set, haven't they? They're ready to test. They're going to disintegrate Waaku, aren't they? It must be today. Then this is the day the world ends. Tell me, when is zero hour?"
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