Unicorn Point (29 page)

All of the choices related to physical combat involving an imals. The definition of “animal” was broad; androids and even some cyborgs counted in particular cases, as well as true animals. Most of them involved birds, whether natural or artificial.

There was an advantage in placing the first choice, because the one who did would get five choices to the other’s four, weighting the grid in his favor. But this was offset by a corresponding advantage given to the other in the play: choice of color in chess, of offense or defense in football, or initial serve in tennis, and so on. Where this was not applicable, the other player would get the choice of numbers or letters, which could make a critical difference if placements were careless. Experienced players tended to go for the play ad vantage, being competent in most games; beginners preferred stacking the choices.

“Take it, wench,” Purple said, his eyes stroking her torso again. By this time a normal woman would be flustered by the direct and pointed attention, knowing that the Citizen had a far better than even chance to realize whatever ambition he had for interaction with her, regardless of the outcome of the Game. But Sheen was hardly normal; even had she been of fleshly nature, she remained Citizen Blue’s wife. Not even his compatriots would support him if he waylaid her. Thus he confined his aggression to his eyes and his voice, doing what he could to unnerve her. It was usually a good ploy; the slightest shakiness in either the choices or the actual play could make the difference in the outcome.
 
So she had the first choice, as though Purple had no concern for any trifling advantage she might gain. Again, the psychological ploy was wasted on her; as a machine, she simply was not subject to irrational nuances of doubt, only rational ones. Her concern was to play correctly—and he had just given her the break she needed. Now she would have two chances in three to get a playoff she liked.
 

She touched the choice of Sparrow Sparring, and the center square of her grid. Immediately the words transferred. She had the best location, some thought, though in practice it made little difference. She had worked with animals, including birds, in her effort to emulate the Lady Blue, because the Lady had worked to heal many sick or injured creatures who came to the Blue Demesnes in Phaze. Sparrow Sparring in volved the projection of the player’s commands to living birds, who flew up and attacked each other with beak and claw. The birds, not naturally vicious, were trained for this, and both beaks and claws were capped by soft material that left a smear of color on the target rather than causing injury. The one who inflicted a severe enough “injury” on the other received the reward of especially tasty seed, and that bird’s manager won the game.

Sheen had developed a certain empathy with the small birds, and now had what she thought of as “sparrow circuits” so that she could direct them effectively. It was not just a matter of giving specific commands; it was a matter of proper motivation and superior strategy. She believed she could win this one, because Purple was liable to be too callous in his treatment of small, weak creatures.
 
His turn: he set Cock Fighting into the upper left square, 9J. The numbers carried on from the prior sequence, and the letters skipped “I” in the standard manner to avoid confusion with the number “ 1.” These would be fierce flying roosters who could strike on the ground or in the air; the cock pit was a cage with assorted perches and baffles so that each com batant could choose his turf and dodge about tactically. As with the sparrows, the birds’ weapons were mock; the little blades affixed to their legs—the spurs—delivered color smears instead of lethal cuts. Once the fights had been real, but Citizen Blue had decreed that they be moderated: no real blood was shed in the name of entertainment any more. A number of die-hard players were disgusted, but Blue held the dominant hand. Sheen hoped to do her part to ensure that he continued to govern; if the Contrary Citizens prevailed, blood would flow again in more than the figurative sense.
 
Her turn: she put Hawk Lasso in 11L, the bottom right comer. In this one the hawks carried loops of fine cord, and tried to snare each other. The first to get a tight loop around 5 the other’s neck, tail or feet was the victor. There were safe guards, and the birds were apt flyers; they seemed to enjoy it, though the command-impulses sent by the players prevented them from playing it their way.

He filled in Dog Fight in 10J, right below his prior entry.
 
This was the zero-gee variant, with a spherical cage; the dogs used the wall only as a launching surface to attack each other.
 
It was difficult to get in a good bite, without the anchorage of gravity, and the dogs required special training before they became competent. The trained dogs were evenly matched, as were all the contest animals; it was the skill of the players who directed strategy and tactics that made the difference.
 
The teeth were blunted, to prevent harm, but Sheen did not want to tackle the Citizen in this arena; he was too blood thirsty, and probably had practiced secretly with dogs whose teeth were sharp.

Now it was her turn, and she had only one spot to fill this time: 11J. That was because she could not afford to let Purple fill in a complete column of his choices, for that would rep resent his victory in the grid. He would simply select that column, and she would be stuck with one of his choices, having no chance at any of her own. In this sense the grid was like its primitive progenitor, tic-tac-toe: three in a row spelled victory. So she filled in Jet Birds, giving herself one option in that column.

He put Owl Bomb in the top center box. In this contest trained owls would be directed to drop bombs of colored water on each other. The liquid was harmless, but was scented in a manner the birds did not like. The cage was large, so that they had ample flying room. Each tried to get above the other so as to be able to score with the bomb, but of course the ceiling was the limit. The owls knew how to launch their bombs upward against an opponent pinned against the ceil ing, so “upsmanship” was not the only strategy.
 
Now she had to fill in 9L, to prevent him from getting a full row of choices. That was the thing about his “generous” yielding of the first placement to her: because he could go with either the numbers or the letters, nothing was safe for her. She put in Pigeon Kites: a contest in which pigeons actually flew little kites in the stiff air currents provided by nozzles. The strings were triangular in cross-section, each edge sharp and serrated. The trick was to down the oppo nent’s kite, either by cutting its string or pre-empting its wind so that it dropped out of control. The pigeons, though trained, were not smart; most of the skill had to be that of the players, sending repeated and specific directives. Move left, fly up, turn, drop down, and so on. The maneuvers could get quite intricate.

Now she had chances to complete either the L column or the 11 row. But this represented no victory for her, because he had the option. He would simply block out one, and choose the other. For example, he could fill 10L, then play the grid from the numbers, so as to prevent her from choosing the 11 row that would have her three choices. Only a duffer would play it otherwise.

He filled Laser Duel: Eagle in the L column. In this, the eagles were artificial, being cyborgs in eagle form. Their liv ing brains qualified them as animals. Each carried a laser pistol that it could fire straight ahead. If a score was made, the victim’s system shorted out and the bird fell to the net below. This one was a favorite with the younger players, es pecially the males; they loved to fire lasers, even vicariously, and chortled when an eagle spun out of control.
 
Now there was one box left to fill, UK. She would have her row, but since she would have to work from the letters, she had no chance to benefit from it. She had a better ploy, and this was the time for it.

“Dragon Duel,” she said.

A word lighted below her grid: ERROR—NO SUCH GAME EXISTS.

“But it fits the category,” she said. “The listed choices are only suggestions; the players can choose what they wish, as long as they remain within the definitions of the encounter.” She glanced up at Purple. “Isn’t that correct, sir?”

The Citizen netted his gaze from her bosom. “True, doxie. You want it, you can have it.”

“I want it.”

Now the voice of the Game Computer sounded. “An extension of the game options has been proposed. Judgment Committee number 452 report immediately to Game Console 23.”

Purple licked his lips. “You really want to do this, peaches?” he inquired with relish. He, as a Phaze fan, had long experience with mocked-up dragons.
 

“I do.”

“I’ll make you a side deal, sweetbuns. I’ll give you that arena—”

“No deal,” she snapped. She might win or she might lose, but she had no intention of committing her body to his lechery in addition. Her ploy was that he would be so intrigued by the new contest that he would elect to play it anyway.
 
There was a stir in the audience chamber as the members of the Judgment Committee arrived. A number of the watchers evidently had not known that specific games or even categories could be added in this manner. To have it happen during a contest as important as this was rare excitement.
 
The committee consisted of one female Citizen, one male Citizen, one female serf, one male serf, and the Game Computer, represented by a humanoid robot whose outer surface was transparent so that its wires, hydraulics and electronic components showed. It took charge at once.
 
“The serf Sheen will explain the nature of the proposed game.”

Sheen was ready. “The Dragon Duel would consist of each player guiding an android or cyborg flying dragon whose weapons would be those of the genuine dragons of Phaze: fiery breath and metallic talons. The technology of such creations is available, and the nature of dragons is known. The players will control their dragons in the same manner they control other animals: by projecting commands to them.
 
The dragon that downs its opponent will be the winner.”

“Modification,” Citizen Purple said. “Instead of sending commands, the players will actually ride their dragons. This will make the game far more personal and dramatic.” That caught Sheen by surprise. She had expected him to be silent, letting her make or break her case. If the committee concluded that the proposed game was impractical, then the square on which she had asked to enter it was forfeit, and her opponent would get to place a choice of his own there.
 
Thus Purple stood a reasonable chance of gaining an advantage merely by keeping his mouth shut. But as it was, he had become a co-proponent of the notion, and so would gain no advantage if it were turned down. This was something he was entitled to do, just as she was entitled to ask for the new game.

The male Citizen on the committee had a question. “Large creature constructs are valuable. How would you justify the waste of resources entailed in shooting down expensive dragons?”

“By making the weapons token, sir,” she replied. “The dragon fire could be a beam of light that would trigger the short-circuiting of key circuits in the victim where it struck.
 
There would be no loss of equipment, and the dragons could be used repeatedly without suffering actual damage.”

The female serf had a question for Purple. “Sir, you say the players will ride the dragons. What if they fall off?”

Citizen Purple eyed her. She was reasonably young and pretty, and flushed becomingly under her gaze. “Harnesses,” he said. “Saddles. No one will fall unless the dragon does, and it will be protected from crashing.”

“The Game facilities are limited,” the female Citizen said. “Where would such a game be played?”

Sheen knew she was in trouble. “I had thought of small dragons, sir. In Phaze there are dragons of all sizes, and some are hardly bigger than birds, and could compete in an existing arena, controlled by sent directives.”

“As it happens,” Purple said, “I have larger models of dragons on my estate at the Purple Mountain Range, that can be ridden. I will make my estate and equipment available to the Game Annex for this limited purpose. There will be no cost to the city.”

Sheen was amazed. Purple was actively pursuing her ploy!
 
She had known he had mock fantasy creatures on his monstrous estate, but had never thought he would offer these for public use. Her notion had been intended to catch his fancy; it had succeeded beyond her expectation.
 
“How long would it take to set up?” the male citizen in quired.

“No time,” Purple replied grandly. “The dragons and facilities are available now.”

The committee consulted, then voted. The game was judged on feasibility and interest; Citizen Purple’s offer made it feasible, his way, and it was obvious that everyone was interested. The game was accepted.

TERTIARY GRID: ID7G

Physical Animal-Assisted Combat, Discontinuous Surface

9 10 11
    
Cock Fight
     
Owl Bomb
     
Pigeon Kite

    
Dog Fight
       
Sparrow Spar
Eagle Duel

    
Jet Birds
         
Dragon Duel
  
Hawk Lasso

Sheen realized that she had misplayed her ploy. She had not allowed for the Citizen’s modification, and now the new game was far more to his specification than to hers. Still, the dynamics of managing a flying dragon should be similar, whether done by remote suggestion or direct personal contact.