Adams picked them up, held them in his fist and shook them, and their clicking was like the porcelain chatter of badly frightened teeth.
His fist came down above the table and his fingers opened and the little white cubes spun and whirled on the polished top. They came to rest and one was a five and the other one a six.
Adams raised his eyes to Sutton and there was nothing in them. No triumph. Absolutely nothing.
"Your turn," said Adams.
Perfect, thought Sutton. Nothing less than perfect. Two sixes. It has to be two sixes.
He stretched out his hand and picked up the dice, shook them in his fist, felt the shape and size of them rolling in his palm.
Now take them in your mind, he told himself…take them in your mind as well as in your fist. Hold them in your mind, make them a part of you, as you made the two ships you drove through space, as you could make a book or chair or a flower you wished to pick.
He changed for a moment and his heart faltered to a stop and the blood slowed to a trickle in his arteries and veins and he was not breathing. He felt the energy system take over, the other body that drew raw energy from anything that might have energy.
His mind reached out and took the dice and shook them inside the prison of his fist and he brought his hand down with a swooping gesture and let his fingers loose and the dice came dancing out.
They were dancing in his brain, too, as well as on the tabletop and he saw them, or sensed them, or was aware of them, as if they were a part of him. Aware of the sides that had the six black dots and the sides with one and all the other sides.