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His maths teacher, had played a similar game with him once.

First, he had set the scene. The class were a group of arctic hunters, living in the tundra, fishing at water holes and avoiding polar bears. Every day the chief (his maths teacher) rolled the magic dice to see whether they would go hunting or not. Taking one look at the dice roll - which could be anything at all - he would quickly tell the class how many holes, and how many polar bears here would be that day.

They only went hunting on days when there were more holes than bears.

The aim of the game was to find out the rules being used to determine the number of hole and polar bears. It seemed arbitrary, the numbers he used to say. The maths was ridiculous, and whatever formula you thought you had worked out would soon be blown out of the water when he rolled three sixes and said 'no holes, no polar bears.'

He was the last child to get it.

It turned out it had nothing to do with the numbers, and everything to do with the layout of the dots on the dice, and for the rest of his life, that was how he saw science. Science was getting numbers sure, but the rules of the game were likely to be far different to anything we could possibly imagine.

And now, here he was... playing the same game with God.

"But... but..." he spluttered. "It can't be true! I dug through the dirt of uncertainty my whole life in the belief that somewhere down there, there would be a bedrock. I kept going because I had faith in a foundation... a law that supported everything above... I spent my life believing that you didn't play dice with the universe! Now I'm dead and here you are... and you don't seem to play anything else!"

God smiled at him, infinite arms rolling infinite dice, whilst simultaneously checking the results and writing them down in a notepad. Or at least she seemed to. God had explained that what she was actually doing was moving faster than the speed of light and so what appeared to be simultaneous actions actually was just normal action, far beyond the possible frame rates of detection.

"Time is relative," she'd said. "Or at least, it would be... if time existed. What does exist is our perception of how much Now there is. And Now," she'd said, "was very stretchy."

"That is all Heaven is," she'd explained. "A place between life and death. This is the never-ending dream that fills your last breath, your final moment, stretched to eternity by the infinite speed of a dying mind. A clever bit of coding on my part, I must say. You get to have an eternity in heaven before your loved ones have even left the room. You're still lying there, alive and dead at the same time."

"So Schroedinger was right?"

God smiled, checking infinity dice rolls with a sweeping roll of her eyes. "Humans... You aren't the only observers around you know... I *always* know whether the cat is dead or not. And, for that matter, so does the cat."

She picked up another infinity dice, blew on them, then rolled them across the universe. She then looked at the results in the same way his old math teacher had looked at the dice, all those years ago. Almost as though he'd known the answer before he'd even rolled.

"So... life really is just based on... probability?"

God scratched her beard.

"I don't think so,” she replied, uncertainly. “Probably not. Mostly...”


God laughed, and the vibrations were known, for quite some time, to be a 'Universe' by its inhabitants. Planets formed, fell apart and formed again. Species grew and evolved and changed and advanced and went extinct and began again. Lives were lived, love was lost and found again, over and over and over... all within the blinking fifty billion years of her laugh.

"Well..." she continued. "I'll tell you a secret. Most of the dice are loaded."

He smiled. He'd *known* there had to be rules.

"And the ones that aren't?"

"I think you would have called them hidden variables.”

“What do you call them?”

God laughed again, and she watched it grow and fade away before replying.

“I call them People.”

About the Author: 
Benjamin is a graduate in Philosophy and Psychology who discovered the ideas of quantum physics through philosophy and has been floundering through the maths ever since. He likes to write about things he doesn't understand in the hopes that someone will correct him.