by Timothy Zahn
The Olyt repeated the salute. "I am ulur Achranae of the Olyt race.
"Pleased to meet you. What does ulur mean?"
"It is a title of respect for my position. I command a war-force of seven spacecraft."
Kelly swallowed. A trained military man. Good thing he wasn't in a hurry to win and go home.
"Interesting. Well, shall we begin?"
Achranae sat down. "Let us make an end to this charade quickly."
"What do you mean, 'charade'?" Kelly asked cautiously as he took his seat. He was by no means an expert on Olyt expressions and emotions, but he could swear this one was angry.
"Do not deny your part," the alien snapped. "I recognize your name from the reports, and know how you played this game for the Stryfkar against another of my people, studying him like a laboratory specimen before allowing him to win and depart. We do not appreciate the way you take our people like this-"
"Whoa! Wait a second; I'm not with them. They've been taking my people, too. It's some sort of psychology experiment, I guess."
"Whoa! Wait a second; I'm not with them. They've been taking my people, too. It's some sort of psychology experiment, I guess."
"Before you do so we must inform you of an important change in the rules," Slaich's voice cut in. "You shall play three different games, instead of one, agreeing on the rules before beginning each. The one who wins two or more shall be returned home. The other will lose his life."
It took a second for that to sink in. "What?" Kelly yelped. "You can't do that!" Across the table Achranae gave a soft, untranslatable hiss. His claws, fully extended, scratched lightly on the game board.
"It is done," Slaich said flatly. "You will proceed now."
Kelly shot a frustrated glance at Achranae, looked up again. "We will not play for our lives. That sort of thing is barbarous, and we are both civilized beings."
"Civilized." Slaich's voice was thick with sudden contempt. "You, who can barely send craft outside your own atmosphere; you consider yourself civilized? And your opponent is little better."
"We govern a sphere fifteen light-years across," Achranae reminded Slaich calmly, his outburst of temper apparently over. For all their short fuses, Kelly decided, Olyts didn't seem to stay mad long.
"Your eight worlds are nothing against our forty."
"It is said the Chanis had only five when they challenged you."
The silence from the speaker was impressively ominous. "What are the Chanis?" Kelly asked, fighting the urge to whisper.
"It is rumored they were a numerically small but brutally aggressive race who nearly conquered the Stryfkar many generations ago. We have heard these stories from traders, but do not know how true they are."
"True or not, you sure hit a nerve," Kelly commented. "How about it, Slaich? Is he right?"
"You will proceed now," Slaich ordered, ignoring Kelly's question.
Kelly glanced at Achranae, wishing he could read the other's face. Did Olyts understand the art of bluffing? "I said we wouldn't play for our lives."
In answer a well-remembered flash of red light exploded inches from his face. Instinctively, he pushed hard on the table, toppling himself and his chair backwards. He hit hard enough to see stars, somersaulted out of the chair, and wound up lying on his stomach on the floor. Raising his head cautiously, he saw the red fireball wink out and, after a moment, got warily to his feet. Achranae, he noted, was also several feet back from the table, crouching in what Kelly decided was probably a fighting stance of some kind.
"If you do not play, both of you will lose your lives." Slaich's voice was mild, almost emotionless, but it sent a shiver down Kelly's spine. Achranae had been right: this was no simple psychology experiment.
The Stryfkar were searching for potential enemies-and somehow both humans and Olyts had made it onto their list. And there was still no way to escape. Looking across at Achranae, Kelly shrugged helplessly. "Doesn't look like we have much choice, does it?" sent a shiver down Kelly's spine. Achranae had been right: this was no simple psychology experiment.
The Stryfkar were searching for potential enemies-and somehow both humans and Olyts had made it onto their list. And there was still no way to escape. Looking across at Achranae, Kelly shrugged helplessly. "Doesn't look like we have much choice, does it?"
"Since this contest is so important to both of us," Kelly said when they were seated again, "I suggest that you choose the first game, allowing me to offer changes that will take away some of your advantage-changes we both have to agree on, of course. I'll choose the second game; you'll suggest changes on that one."
"That seems honorable. And the third?"
"I don't know. Let's discuss that one when we get there, okay?"
It took nearly an hour for the first game, plus amendments, to be agreed upon. Achranae used three of the extra transparencies and their supports to create a three-dimensional playing area; the game itself was a sort of 3-D "Battleship," but with elements of chess, Monopoly, and even poker mixed in. Surprisingly enough, the mixture worked, and if the stakes hadn't been so high Kelly thought he would have enjoyed playing it. His own contributions to the rules were a slight adjustment to the shape of the playing region-which Kelly guessed would change the usual positional strategies-and the introduction of a "wild card" concept to the play. "I also suggest a practice game before we play for keeps," he told Achranae.
The Olyt's dark eyes bored into his. "Why?"
"Why not? I've never played this before, and you've never played with these rules. It would make the actual game fairer. More honorable. We'll do the same with the second and third games."
"Ah-it is a point of honor?" The alien cocked his head to the right. A nod? "Very well. Let us begin."
Even with the changes, the game-Skymarch, Achranae called it-was still very much an Olyt one, and Achranae won the practice game handily. Kelly strongly suspected Skymarch was a required course of the aliens' space academy; it looked too much like space warfare to be anything else.
"Did the Stryf speak the truth when he said you were not starfarers?" Achranae asked as they set up the board again.
"Hm? Oh, yes." Kelly replied distractedly, his mind on strategy for the coming game. "We've hardly even got simple spacecraft yet."
"Surprising, since you learn space warfare tactics so quickly." He waved his sheathed claws over the board. "A pity, too, since you will not be able to resist if the Stryfkar decide to destroy you."
"I suppose not, but why would they want to? We can't be any threat to them."
Again Achranae indicated the playing board. "If you are representative, your race is unusually gifted with both tactical skill and aggressiveness. Such abilities would make you valuable allies or dangerous adversaries to any starfaring race."
Kelly shrugged. "You'd think they'd try to recruit us, then."
"Unlikely. The Stryfkar are reputed to be a proud race who have little use for allies. This harassment of both our peoples should indicate their attitude toward other races."
"Unlikely. The Stryfkar are reputed to be a proud race who have little use for allies. This harassment of both our peoples should indicate their attitude toward other races."
Achranae let out a long hiss. "Very well."
From the very beginning it was no contest. Kelly did his best, but it was clear that the Olyt was able to think three-dimensionally better than he could. Several times he lost a piece simply because he missed some perfectly obvious move it could have made. Sweating, he tried to make himself slow down, to spend more time on each move. But it did no good. Inexorably, Achranae tightened the noose; and, too quickly, it was all over.
Kelly leaned back in his chair, expelling a long breath. It was all right, he told himself-he had to expect to lose a game where the alien had all the advantages. The next game would be different, though; Kelly would be on his own turf, with his choice of weapons
"Have you chosen the game we shall play next?" Achranae asked, interrupting Kelly's thoughts.<
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"Idle down, will you?" Kelly snapped, glaring at the alien. "Give me a minute to think."
It wasn't an easy question, Chess was far and away Kelly's best game, but Achranae had already showed himself a skilled strategist, at least with warfare-type games. That probably made chess a somewhat risky bet. Card games involved too much in the way of chance, for this second game Kelly needed as much advantage as he could get. Word games like Scrabble were obviously out. Checkers or Dots were too simple. Backgammon? That was a pretty nonmilitary game, but Kelly was a virtual novice at it himself. How about- How about a physical game?
"Slaich? Could I get some extra equipment in here? I'd like a longer table, a couple of paddles, a sort of light, bouncy ball-"
"Games requiring specific physical talents are by their nature unfair for such a competition as this," Slaich said. "They are not permitted."
"I do not object," Achranae spoke up unexpectedly, and Kelly looked at him in surprise. "You stated we could choose the games and the rules, and it is Kelly McClain's choice this time."
"We are concerned with psychological studies," Slaich said. "We are not interested in the relative abilities of your joints and muscles. You will choose a game that can be played with the equipment provided."
"It is dishonorable-"
"No, it's okay, Achranae," Kelly interrupted, ashamed at himself for even suggesting such a thing. "Slaich is right; it would've been completely unfair. It was dishonorable for me to suggest it. Please accept my apology."
"You are blameless," the Olyt said. The dishonor is in those who brought us here."
"Yes," Kelly agreed, glancing balefully at the ceiling. The point was well taken. Achranae wasn't Kelly's enemy, merely his opponent. The Stryfkar were the real enemy.
"Yes," Kelly agreed, glancing balefully at the ceiling. The point was well taken. Achranae wasn't Kelly's enemy, merely his opponent. The Stryfkar were the real enemy.
He cleared his throat. "Okay, Achranae, I guess I'm ready. This game's called chess...."
The Olyt picked up the rules and movements quickly, enough so that Kelly wondered if the aliens had a similar game on their own world. Fortunately, the knight's move seemed to be a new one on him, and Kelly hoped it would offset the other's tactical training. As his contribution, Achranae suggested the pawns be allowed to move backwards as well as forwards. Kelly agreed, and they settled into their practice game.
It was far harder than Kelly had expected. The "reversible pawn" rule caused him tremendous trouble, mainly because his logic center kept editing it out of his strategy. Within fifteen moves he'd lost both bishops and one of his precious knights, and Achranae's queen was breathing down his neck.
"An interesting game," the Olyt commented a few moves later, after Kelly had managed to get out from under a powerful attack. "Have you had training in its technique?"
"Not really," Kelly said, glad to take a breather. "I just play for enjoyment with my friends. Why?"
"The test of skill at a game is the ability to escape what appears to be certain defeat. By that criterion you have a great deal of skill."
Kelly shrugged. "Just native ability, I guess."
"Interesting. On my world such skills must be learned over a long period of time." Achranae indicated the board. "We have a game similar in some ways to this one; if I had not studied it I would have lost to you within a few moves."
"Yeah," Kelly muttered. He'd been pretty sure Achranae wasn't running on beginner's luck, but he'd sort of hoped he was wrong. "Let's get back to the game, huh?"
In the end Kelly won, but only because Achranae lost his queen to Kelly's remaining knight and Kelly managed to take advantage of the error without any major goofs of his own.
"Are you ready to begin the actual game?" Achranae asked when the board had been cleared.
Kelly nodded, feeling a tightness in his throat. This was for all the marbles. "I suppose so. Let's get it over with."
Using one of the multifaced dice they determined the Olyt would have the white pieces. Achranae opened with his king's pawn, and Kelly responded with something he dimly remembered being called a Sicilian defense. Both played cautiously and defensively; only two pawns were taken in the first twenty moves. Sweating even in the air-conditioned room, Kelly watched his opponent gradually bring his pieces into attacking positions as he himself set his defense as best he could.
When the assault came it was devastating in its slaughter. By the time the captures and recaptures were done, eight more pieces were gone... and Kelly was a rook down.
Brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes with a trembling hand, Kelly swallowed hard as he studied the board. Without a doubt, he was in trouble. Achranae controlled the center of the board now and his king was better defended than Kelly's. Worse yet, he seemed to have mastered the knight's move, while Kelly was still having trouble with his pawns. And if the Olyt won this one...
Brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes with a trembling hand, Kelly swallowed hard as he studied the board. Without a doubt, he was in trouble. Achranae controlled the center of the board now and his king was better defended than Kelly's. Worse yet, he seemed to have mastered the knight's move, while Kelly was still having trouble with his pawns. And if the Olyt won this one...
Kelly started, looked up at his opponent. "Just a-" His voice cracked and he tried again. "Just nervous."
"Perhaps we should cease play for a time, until you are better able to concentrate," Achranae suggested.
The last thing Kelly wanted at the moment was the alien's charity. "I'm all right," he said irritably.
Achranae's eyes were unblinking. "In that case, I would like to take a few minutes of rest myself. Is this permissible?"
Kelly stared back as understanding slowly came. Clearly, Achranae didn't need a break; he was a game and a half toward going home. Besides which, Kelly knew what an upset Olyt looked like, and Achranae showed none of the symptoms. No, giving Kelly the chance to calm down could only benefit the human...
and as he gazed at the alien's face, Kelly knew the Olyt was perfectly aware of that.
"Yes," Kelly said at last. "Let's take a break. How about returning in a half-hour or so?"
"Acceptable." Achranae stood and crossed his wrists. "I shall be ready whenever you also are."
The ceiling over Kelly's bed was perfectly flat, without even so much as a ripple to mar it. Nonetheless, it reflected images far more poorly than Kelly would have expected. He wondered about it, but not very hard. There were more important things to worry about.
Pulling his left arm from behind his head; he checked the time. Five more minutes and Slaich would sound the little bell that would call them back to the arena. Kelly sighed.
What was he going to do?
Strangely enough, the chess game was no longer his major concern. True, he was still in trouble there, but the rest period had done wonders for his composure, and he had already come up with two or three promising lines of attack. As long as he kept his wits around him, he had a fair chance of pulling a win out of his current position. And that was Kelly's real problem... because if he did, in fact, win, there would have to be a third game. A game either he or Achranae would have to lose.
Kelly didn't want to die. He had lots of high-sounding reasons why he ought to stay alive-at least one of which, the fact that no one else on Earth knew of the threat lurking behind these "games," was actually valid-but the plain fact was that he simply didn't want to die. Whatever the third game was chosen to be, he knew he would play just as hard and as well as he possibly could.
And yet...
Kelly squirmed uncomfortably. Achranae didn't deserve to die, either. Not only was he also an unwilling participant in this crazy arena, but he had deliberately thrown away his best chance to win the contest.
Perhaps it was less a spirit of fairness than one of obedience to a rigid code of honor that had kept him from capitalizing on his opponent's momentary panic; Kelly would probably never know one w
ay or the other. But it really didn't matter. If Kelly went on to win the chess game he would owe his victory to Achranae.
from capitalizing on his opponent's momentary panic; Kelly would probably never know one way or the other. But it really didn't matter. If Kelly went on to win the chess game he would owe his victory to Achranae.
What would be the fairest way to do it? Invent a game together that neither had played before? That would pit Kelly's natural tactical abilities against Achranae's trained ones and would probably be pretty fair. On the other hand, it would give the Stryfkar another chance to study them in action, and Kelly was in no mood to cooperate with his captors any more than necessary. Achranae, Kelly had already decided, seemed to feel the same way. He wondered fleetingly how long the Stryfkar had been snatching Achranae's people, and why they hadn't retaliated. Probably had no idea where this game studies center was, he decided; the Transphere's operations would, by design, be difficult to trace. But if he and Achranae didn't want to give the Stryfkar any more data, their only alternative was to make the rubber game one of pure chance, and Kelly rebelled against staking his life on the toss of a coin.
The tone, expected though it was, startled him. "It is time," Slaich's flat voice announced. "You will return to the test chamber."
Grimacing, Kelly got to his feet and headed for the door. Maybe Achranae would have some ideas.
"Are you better prepared to play now?" the Olyt asked when they again faced each other over the board.
"Yes," Kelly nodded. "Thanks for suggesting a break. I really did need it."
"I sensed that your honor did not permit you to make the request." The alien gestured at the board. "I believe it is your move."
Sure enough, now that his nerves were under control, Kelly began to chip away at Achranae's position, gradually making up his losses and taking the offensive once more. Gambling on the excessive value the Olyt seemed to place in his queen, Kelly laid a trap, with his own queen as the bait. Achranae bit... and five moves later Kelly had won.
