An Infallible Method for Winning at Roulette

Introduction

"What's this?\" queried Tommy Baker.

Danny Baker examined the peculiar device his younger brother was holding. At first, it eluded his recognition, but soon he realized, \"That's an antique memory recorder. They haven't manufactured those in ages! Wow!\"

Tommy Baker leaned on the stacked boxes they were sorting through in the attic, fixating on the odd gadget they had discovered among the junk. \"So, how does this thing operate?\"

"Well, you input the information you want to keep in mind, which I believe was stored on a safedisk. Mind if I take a look at that? Yep, there it is. Such outdated technology! Anyway, the safedisk would retain the information, and then you'd transfer it to your brain whenever you wanted to.\"

"They taught you that in school?\"

"I can't recall where I picked that up. Tommy, you really should have finished your studies!\"

"I get it. But, I'm not destined for anything intellectual. I might as well enlist in the space marines or something like that. I wish I weren't so clueless!\"

"I believe you'll discover your own strengths. Dad taught me about memory recorders when I was young—before he passed on.\"

"I don't have many memories of Dad. You were fortunate to have those experiences with him.\"

"Sure, Tommy, but you were just two years old. I was twelve. I had to endure the pain of losing him. You didn't have to face that. Anyway, if my memory serves me right, this was probably Grandpa's memory recorder. You're named after him. He was also Tommy Baker. He left it here before heading to the casino. My dad was always worried I might do something reckless like Grandpa did, and he always gave me the whole lecture. Grandpa used this to memorize the winning numbers from an evening of roulette, likely at a specific table in a casino, before time slipped back for the game.\"

Tommy looked puzzled. \"So, he memorized all the numbers before they actually occurred after he traveled back in time?\"

"Exactly. Well, sort of.\"

"Did it work?\"

"Wait, are you saying we inherited any family wealth? Grandpa died the night he traveled back in time. He was robbed and killed before he ever made it to the casino. He never had a chance to place a bet. Of course, they were unaware of Gale's law back then. But that led to Grandpa's demise, and Dad was always troubled by it throughout his life.\"

"Huh. They caught the guy who did it?\"

"Are you talking about who took Grandpa's life? Yeah, just a pathetic coward. He took his own life a few days later. No trial, no confession, no name or identification. Dad always speculated about the identity of that mysterious man.\"

Tommy took back the memory recorder and fiddled with the switch, but nothing happened. \"Looks like it's broken!\"

"What do you expect? It must have been up here for seventy years. And even if it worked, the batteries are probably dead.\"

"Oh, yeah. Batteries. I'm so, so dumb.\"

---

That night, Tommy Baker relaxed in his room, turning the memory recorder over in his hands. It was surprisingly compact. When he opened the back panel, he noticed it took tiny \"TTT\" batteries—still relatively common today.

He grabbed the remote for the holo-flat and happily discovered a fresh set of triple \"t\" batteries inside. He swapped out the ancient pair in the memory recorder, and to his great surprise, it blinked red and gold. The switch must have been on.

After thirty minutes of research on the ultranet, he figured out how to use the outdated device. Eventually, Tommy successfully uploaded all the data from the memory recorder into his brain. It felt as real as memories from just yesterday, complete with all the details he needed—casino, date and time, table, and location of the spins from that fateful day seventy years prior.

Tommy felt ecstatic. However, his enthusiasm quickly waned as he realized his foolishness. What would he really gain from this information? It pertained to events that took place ages ago.

---

Breakfast was a quiet affair for the brothers. While Tommy chewed his food, he glanced at his more intelligent older brother with concern. At last, he spoke up, \"Hey, um, Danny? You wouldn’t happen to know how much a Time Slipper goes for, would you?\"

Danny nearly choked on his caffeinated coffee, swallowing a large mouthful along with it. \"What do you need a time slipper for? Please tell me you're not thinking of doing something like Grandpa did!\"

"Look, you wouldn't want Grandpa's death to be in vain, would you? Well, I sort of managed to upload all the winning numbers from that memory recorder. I got it operational, you know. Now that I know all the spins from that night, I think I should just go back and take advantage of it.\"

Danny looked horrified and bewildered at his brother. \"Take advantage? You mean profit, right?\"

"Yeah, you know what I mean.\"

"Even if I knew the price, time slippers are illegal. They were considered contraband seventy years ago, and they're still illegal today. And let's not forget Gale's law! Did you forget?\"

"I never really learned that.\"

"Geez, I know you didn’t complete your education, but they must have taught you something about this! Gale's law, named after the scientist who developed the theory and conducted all the major experiments, Martin Gale. He theorized that no one could ever alter the past because it is fixed, and any person who time-traveled had already done so. Furthermore, anyone attempting to change the past would be stopped before they could fulfill their intentions, as the past is, according to his law, locked.\"

"But isn't that just a theory? How could you ever validate that?\"

"They did prove it with over a hundred controlled experiments. First, Martin Gale crafted minor but traceable events, like parking a car at a specific corner for a month. If he were to change the past, it wouldn't have any significant consequences, you know—the Butterfly Effect.

"Then, he dispatched auto-bots back with time slippers, programmed to move the car after it had been parked for only two days. Since it had been stationary for over a month, the auto-bot would be altering the timeline by relocating it early. Would anyone from the changed future be aware of this? The answer is yes, because those auto-bots carried recordings of the future they came from. Even if the car was moved after just two days, the visuals from the auto-bot demonstrated that it had been at that location for a full month in the original timeline. Essentially, time had changed, even if no one remembered it.

"Anyway, the auto-bots were tracked with GPS, and the tapes helped scientists compare what had happened in the past with the current timeline.\"

"And what was the result? Were there any discrepancies?\"

"Of course not. The past remained unchanged. There was always an event that prevented the auto-bot from moving the car—and it was something that had already occurred. The researchers were simply unaware. For instance, one auto-bot was hit by a car, another was taken, and one malfunctioned and was found precisely where it had stalled, according to GPS. Whatever the situation was, the scientists could always find an article in the local news about a car crashing into an auto-bot or thieves who had been arrested with a stolen auto-bot. They just didn't recognize it until after retrieving it. You get my drift?\"

"That's Gale's law for you. The past is fixed and cannot be modified. Anyone who has traveled back in time has already done so, and any attempts to alter history will be thwarted by the very occurrences that have already taken place for that person trying to change it.\"

"I wish I wasn't so, so dumb!\"

"Yeah, well, just forget about it and you won’t go crazy over it.\"

---

Tommy couldn't make out the face of the man sitting across from him; his features were obscured by a virtuascarf. Many criminals preferred these because they worked like regular hoods or scarves that concealed one's face during illegal activities, but unlike the real thing, virtuascarfs simply projected a deceptive cover. In a moment of panic, a victim couldn't just easily remove a virtuascarf, as trying to do so would result in their hand passing through the projected illusion. It also distorted the perception of where the person's face began and ended, making it harder for victims to identify or defend themselves. For example, the projection could amplify the size of their nose, complicating identification and self-defense; one might aim a punch at a criminal's face only to discover they had miscalculated, finding their knuckles striking air because the real face was several centimeters further back than it appeared.

Tommy had dealt with this particular contact before, engaging in business on multiple occasions. This time, the enigmatic figure slid a small wristwatch—a time slipper—toward him. \"You got the cash?\"

Tommy nodded and reached into his inner jacket pocket. He hated betraying the trust of his contact, but he felt he had no other options. Instead of pulling out a wad of cash, he revealed a blastgun. The barely visible eyes behind the virtuascarf widened, though that might have just been part of the illusion. \"Are you kidding me?\"

A wry smile crept onto Tommy's face at the unintentional humor woven through his contact's words. 'Scarfing' had become the current slang for being robbed. It evoked the image of a hoodlum’s scarf being yanked away, exposing them. \"NO! I promise, I'm not trying to rob you!\"

"Well, it looks like you have a goddamn heatgun pointed at me. You’d better know what you're getting into!\"

"Listen, I can’t afford the time slipper right now. I need it to make the money, so I'm just borrowing it. I’ll meet you back here in three days with the cash for it. I promise. It's not like I'm taking your hydro cars for a leisurely joyride!\"

The man stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Then, he chuckled, though it was far from lighthearted. \"I deal with people who steal my hydro cars for kicks. You better show up in three days—with triple the cash and the time slipper! I want it back!\"

Tommy nodded. \"Then, what the hell am I paying for?\"

"I'm asking for forgiveness for that time I put a weapon so close to your face. I expect restitution for what you've taken from me and for your continued existence, if it means anything to you. Think of it as interest. If you don't comply, you've essentially signed your own death warrant. Are you prepared for that?\"

"Not yet. If that’s the only way to set things straight, then count me in. I won’t back down from it.\"

---

That night, Tommy nervously ate his dinner while sitting opposite his older brother. Danny was chatting about his mundane day at work, but Tommy tuned him out and finally cut in with, \"I really need a hundred bucks. Think you can spot me?\"

Danny hesitated, his curiosity piqued. \"That’s quite a sum. Do you even realize how long it takes to earn a hundred bucks? That’s practically a month’s salary for some people!\"

"I get it. You don’t have to elaborate. But I really need it right now,\" Tommy replied.

Wiping his chin, Danny responded, \"What exactly is so urgent that you need a hundred bucks for?\"

"Can’t you just trust me for once? Just give it to me, please!\"

"Fine,\" Danny said after a brief pause. He stepped out of the room, returning shortly with a hundred-dollar bill in hand. \"Here's your Kennedy bill.\"

Tommy grinned at the familiar face of the former president. \"You make it seem like I’ve never seen a Kennedy before,\" Danny teased.

"I haven’t. I don’t have the same money flow you do. But I’ve seen the older bills before,\" Tommy replied. \"Yeah, the old ones had different faces on them, but they changed all that just before I was born. What was the point in having a hundred if it was only worth a penny back then? The previous bills even had Benjamin Franklin on them!\"

"Which president was he?\"

Danny grimaced. \"You seriously need to hit the books again, Tommy.\"

"So how much is this worth, old money?\"

"Half a million, maybe two? I wasn't paying much attention when they made the switch. Why do you ask?\"

"I need to switch over.\"

Danny's expression twisted with frustration. \"Are you actually doing what I thought? I’ve never seen that watch on your wrist before. Does it have a time-travel function?\"

Tommy fell silent for a moment. \"Listen, it's Gale's law, right?\"

"What? Are you really bringing Gale's law into this conversation?\"

"Sure! If I’m able to go back in time, then I must have done it already, correct? Whatever I choose to do must have already happened. So, I really need to make that trip back. If I never went, then this timepiece wouldn’t function, right? So, my win at the casino is just a small event in the timeline. I doubt I changed anything. I have a theory. I was there during that jackpot night. I played all night long using the numbers from my grandfather's memory device, and he watched my winning streak without even recognizing me! Essentially, I time slipped back here as a millionaire. That’s a bit of justice for what my grandfather endured.\"

Danny blinked in shock as he listened to Tommy’s explanation. \"That’s a pretty clever theory you’ve come up with. It actually makes some sense. But I’m positive there’s a flaw in it somewhere.\"

"No, I’m certain it’s accurate. I have to go back. I already did, and I walked away with all that money!\"

Now Danny was smirking, and Tommy could tell he had found something that could make him look foolish. \"Listen, money isn't that easy to convert to the old bills. There aren’t any left. The government destroyed all the old currency. Some collectors might have a few, but not enough for your plans.\"

"Do you think I’m ignorant?\" Tommy shot back. \"There’s definitely a place in the past where they still have plenty of old cash!\"

"So what do you need my Kennedy for?\"

"Come on, Danny, who’s really the dimwit here? I need the Kennedy bill to exchange it for the old money. Once I time slip back, I’ll change it and hit the casino hard,\" Tommy explained.

"IDIOT! YOU'VE GOT IT ALL WRONG! AS SOON AS YOU TRY TO PASS OFF MODERN CURRENCY IN THE PAST, THEY'LL LOCK YOU UP FOR COUNTERFEITING! THOSE BILLS DON'T EVEN EXIST YET! Not to mention, the dates on them would be decades ahead of the current ones!\"

Tommy smacked his forehead in realization. \"Oh wow, I really am so clueless.\"

Rain fell like ice pellets on Tommy Baker as he cursed Danny for not warning him about the weather from seventy years ago. He hadn’t come prepared for a storm, and the moment he jumped back in time, the downpour and wind became undeniable evidence of his time travel. Back in his own time, the weather had been a crisp, clear evening.

He grasped his Blastgun like it was a security blanket. He had to fight; he would have to use it multiple times if necessary. While he preferred subtler methods, most folks he encountered were too jittery to resist when confronted with a gun at point-blank range. Unlike traditional firearms, no one walked away from a blastgun attack.

The location he picked near the casino was chosen for its obscurity and darkness. Eighty years in the future, people would occasionally stroll by, and he was hoping to find an easy target. Since he was aware of all the winning numbers for that night’s roulette, he just needed some starting cash in the form of old currency. He steeled his gaze against the rain and wind, watching the casino piercing through the stormy clouds, glimmering with art deco glamour and vibrant colors of red, blue, yellow, and green lighting. Curiously, the exterior seemed a bit worn down, not as pristine as he remembered it being in his own time. Perhaps renovations were overdue, or maybe they had draped a massive virtual façade over the entire structure to make it look new and appealing to patrons.

As the rain poured down, he grew impatient, wondering if anyone would even be out in such unpleasant weather. He spotted potential targets leaving the casino, but they quickly darted down the steps and hopped into waiting taxis. Clearly, it was not an ideal night for looking for easy victims.

Eventually, he resolved to try his luck inside the casino itself. As he approached the front entrance, a burly security guard greeted him with a smirk, saying, \"Hello.\"

"You too,\" returned Tommy.

As Tommy reached for the inside glass doors to enter, the guard bellowed, \"Do you mind if I see some identification?\"

Tommy halted instantly. While he wasn’t worried since he had turned twenty-one only months ago, he found it downright amusing that the guard would phrase it as a question. It felt more like a courteous demand.

"Of course,\" Tommy replied as he passed over his identification.

The guard scrutinized it closely. \"I've never seen an ID formatted like this before?\"

"Yeah, they changed the design recently. But it’s valid. I got it not long ago,\" Tommy explained.

The guard's tone grew more hostile. \"You know, this is quite insulting.\"

"Excuse me?\" Tommy said, baffled by where this was headed. It was definitely a legitimate ID.

"This card is fake. You could end up in jail for this. But I'm off in fifteen minutes, and I don’t want to deal with paperwork, so I’m going to do you a solid. Take your ridiculous card back and find a better forger. It looks painfully obvious!\"

"I don't understand. This is valid.\"

"HEY! DON’T MAKE ME REGRET THIS! Sure, my ID is valid, and you’re right, I was born forty-nine years from now. I understand; it’s a ridiculous situation. But this isn’t funny anymore, so I’m taking your card and you need to leave, now!\"

How could Tommy be so utterly foolish? he thought in despair.

Facing the relentless wind and rain again, he pondered his next actions, feeling frustrated over the loss of his ID. Sure, it wouldn’t hold up in this time and place, but he’d have to find a way to procure a new one once he returned to his own era.

Could this be a manifestation of Gale's law? Was he truly being barred from entry and opportunity due to a mere identification issue? But he was determined to continue; he had come this far. He had to find another way in; he was sure not every entrance was manned with security at all hours. It was his mistake to have tried the main entry.

He trudged through the downpour until he discovered a side entrance that led to the casino’s hydrobus station.

Tommy scanned the room filled with weary, drowsy faces. This entrance was unguarded, and as he slipped inside, he caught a glimpse of the very same security guard who had stopped him earlier, now descending the hydrovator. Acting quickly, he noticed an empty elevator and rushed inside, pressing the casino floor button — the only one functional without needing a security key.

The doors closed. He was in.

Instinctively, he moved to the rear of the elevator. When the door opened on the casino floor, an older gentleman stepped inside, swiped his security card, selected a high floor, and smiled at Tommy as the gates closed behind him. Something about Tommy’s disheveled and ragged appearance made the man visibly uncomfortable, and he quickly averted his gaze.

"Did you have a pleasant evening?\" Tommy asked casually.

"Yes, I had a lot of fun,\" the man replied, the tension easing as a smile brightened his face. Perfect, Tommy thought. He shifted his grip on the Blastgun in his pocket.

"Unfortunately, I didn’t win anything. I lost most of my stake tonight. But overall, it was a good time. Gambling, right?\"

Tommy smiled on the outside, withdrawing his fingers from the Blastgun. There was no cash on this guy. The elevator stopped, and the man turned, asking, \"Is this your floor?\"

"No, I was just enjoying the ride. Trying to dry off before hitting the games,\" Tommy replied.

The man looked skeptical but exited, and the doors closed behind him.

Two floors down, the doors opened again, and a man with a hook nose stepped inside, radiating confidence. This was the target, Tommy decided, just a harmless inquiry to confirm.

"Heading to the tables?\" he inquired politely.

"Yep,\" the hook-nosed man replied. \"Roulette's my game! I can’t stand slots or any other table games. Tonight is the night I win big at Roulette. What about you? What’s your game plan?\"

Tommy shifted to face him. \"Robbery!\" he proclaimed, aiming the blastgun steadily at him. \"Hand over all your cash!\"

The man flinched. \"The security here is terrible! Just yesterday, there was a robbery-murder incident, and now...\"

A tense silence hung in the air. \"It wasn’t just yesterday, was it?\" the man quietly murmured.

Clearly, he hadn’t realized Tommy had heard him, but the implication of his words left Tommy briefly puzzled.

At that moment, as the hook-nosed man made a sudden lunge to grab the blastgun, a torrent of emotions surged through Tommy Baker’s mind, including the significance of the phrase, \"It wasn’t yesterday,\" as the bright flash discharged, killing the first person he had ever taken a life.

"For the chance to forgive you for that heat you've planted in my face. For your overdue payment on something you've taken from me. For your very existence, provided you hold any value for it. Think of it as interest. If you refuse this, it could lead to your end. Are you ready to take that step?\"

1) I just killed my grandfather.

"Not just yet. If that’s what must happen to set things right, then I'll manage without issue.\"

And finally,

3) I wish I wasn't so, so smart!

---

That night, Tommy sat uneasily at the dinner table opposite his elder brother. Danny spoke lightly about his workday, his words washing over Tommy without making an impact. Eventually, he cut in, saying, \"I could really use a hundred bucks. Mind fronting me that?\"

• Danny faltered for a moment before glancing at Tommy with intrigue. \"That’s quite a lot of money. You know it takes time to earn a hundred bucks, right? That’s practically a month's salary for me.\" .
• An Infallible Method for Winning at Roulette .
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Written by: Aaron Denenberg