Here was yet another game. The game was for him and Nishad and Gary and Caroline to generate hundreds of billions of dollars and use it to reduce the likelihood of the grand experiment coming to an end. Like all the games Sam loved, this game was played on a clock. He’d somehow decided that the odds were low that he, or really most people, would do anything important after about the age of forty. If he didn’t sleep, or exercise, or eat properly, and always preferred action over inaction, here was why. He had to move fast. He didn’t think the later years of his own life contained much expected
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