seem larger than life. I did not know if the fellow were an actor or simply someone adopting such a costume, all in the fun of carnival. As he walked away I noted that the mask had a different expression on the back. That device, not really very common in such masks, makes possible a change of expression without having recourse to a new mask.
A fellow, a pulley-maker I recognized from the arsenal, and the arsenal kaissa champion, rose to his feet, from where he had been sitting cross-legged before the kaissa board in the kaissa booth. 'A marvelous game,' he said, rubbing his head, bewildered. 'I was humiliated. I was devastated. I do not even know how he did it. In fourteen moves he did it! In fourtenn moves he captured three pieces and it would have been capture of Home Stone on the next! Perhaps there were illegal moves. Perhaps I did not see everything he did!'
'Try another game,' encouraged the paunchy fellow, he who had been associated with the stage and who, it seemed, had an interest also in the kaissa booth. 'Perhaps your luck will change!'
But the pulley-maker, almost reeling, made his way away, through the crowds.
'Why did you do that?' asked the paunchy fellow of the man sitting behind the board.
'he thought he knew how to play kaissa,' said the man behind the board.
'How much have you taken in tonight?' asked the paunchy fellow, angrily, pointing to the copper, lidded pot, with the coin slot cut in its top, chained shut, near the low kaissa table.
The fellow behind the table began to move the pieces about on the board.
The paunchy fellow seized up the pot. He shook it, assessing its contents. 'Four, five tarsk bits?' he asked. Judging from the timing and the sounds of the coins bounding about inside the pot there was not much there.
'Three,' siad the fellow behind the board.
'You could have carried him for at least twenty moves,' siad the paunchy fellow. He replaced the copper coin pot, chained shut, beside the kaissa table.
'I did not care to do so,' said the fellow behind the board.
Interestingly the man behind the board wore black robes and a hoodlike mask, alsso black, which covered his entire head. He did not wear the red-and-yellow-checked robes of the caste of players, he was not, thus, I assumed, of that caste. Had he been of the players he would doubtless have worn their robes. They are quite proud of their caste. His skills, howver, I conjectured, must be considerable. Apparently the arsenal champion, one of the best twenty or thirty players in Port Kar, had been not match for him. Perhaps he had engaged in illegal moves. That seemed more likely than the fact that he, a fellow like him, associated with actors and carnival folk, and such, could best the arsenal champion. It ws carnival time, of course. Perhaps the champion had been drdink.
'If the game is not interesting for htem, if they do not htink they are really playing, seriously, they will not want a second or a thrid game,' said the paunchy fellow. 'We want them to come back! We want the board busy! That is how we are making the money!'
The price for a game is usually something between a tarsk bit and and a copper tarsk. If the challenger wins or draws, the game is free. Someteimes a copper tarsk, or even a silver tarsk, is nailed to one of the poles of the booth. It goes to the challenger if he wins and the game is free, if he draws. This is because a skillful player, primarily by judicious exchanges and careful position play, can often bring about a draw. Less risk is involved in playing for a draw than a win, of course. Conservative players, ahead in tournament play, often adopt this stratagem, usuing it, often to the fury of the crowds and their opponents, to protect and nurse an established lead. A full point is scored for a win; in a draw each player obtains a half point.
'you must manage to lose once in a while,' said the paunchy fellow. 'That will bring them back! That way, in the the long run, we will make much more money!'
'I play to win,' siad the fellow, looking at the board.
'I do not know why I put up with you!' said the paunchy fellow. 'You are only a roustabout and vagabond!'
I noted the configuration of the pieces on the board. The hooded fellow had not begun from the opening position, arriving at the configuration after a series of moves. he had simply set the pieces up originally in that position. Something about the position seemed familiar. I suddenly realized, with a start, that I had seen it before. It was the position which would be arrived at on the seventeenth move of the Ubara's Gambit Declined, Yellow Home stone having been placed at Ubara's Builder One, providing red had, on the eleventh move, departed from the main line, transposing into the Turian line. Normally, at this point, one continues with the advancement of the Ubara's Initiate's Spearman, supporting the attack being generated on the adjacent file, that of the Ubara's Builder. he, however, advanced the Ubar's Initiate's Spearman in a two-square-option move, grining it to Ubar's Initiate Five. I wondered if he knew anything about kaissa. Then, suddenly, the move seemed interesting to me. It would, in effect, launch a second attack, and one which might force yellow to bring pieces to the Ubar's side of the board, thereby weakening the position of the Ubara's Builder's File, making it more vulnerable, then, of course, to the major attack. It was an interesting idea, I wondered if it had ever been seriously played.
'You must learn to lose!' said the paunchy fellow.
'I have lost,' said the hooded fellow, 'I know what it is like.'
'You, Sir,' siad the paunchy fellow turning to me, 'do you play kaissa?'
'A little,' I said.
'Hazard a game,' he invited. 'Only a tarsk bit!' he then glanced meaningfully at the hooded fellow, and then turned and again regarded me. 'I can almost guarantee that you will win.' he said.
'Why is your player hooded?' I asked. It did not seem the kind of disguising that might be appropriate for carnival.
'It is something from infancy, or almost from infancy,' said the paunchy fellow, shuddering, 'from flames, a great fire. It left him as he is, beneath the mask. He is a disfigured monster. Free women would swoon at the sight. The stomachs of strong men would be turned. They would cry out with horror and strike at him. Such grotesquerie, such hideousness, is not to be tolerated in public view.'
'I see,' I said.
'Only a tarsk bit,' the paunchy fellow reminded me.
'Do not fear that you will not win,' said the hooded fellow, in fury, placing the pieces in position for the opening of play. He then, imperiously, removed his Ubar, Ubara, and his Builders and Physicians, from the board, six major pieces. He looked angrily at me, and then, too, he threw his tarnsmen into the leather bag, with drawstrings, at the side of the table. he spun the board about so that I might have Yellow, and the first move. Thus I would have the initiative. Thus I could, in effect, for most purposes, choose my preferred opening. 'Make your first move,' he said. 'I shall then tip my Ubar and the game will be yours.'
'Can you not be somewhat more subtle?' inquired the paunchy fellow of the hooded man.
'I would not consider playing under such conditions,' I said.
'Why not?' aske dthe paunchy fellow, pained. 'You could then say truthfully that you had won. Others need not know the sort of game it was.'
'It is an insult to kaissa,' I said.
'He is right,' said the hooded fellow.
The slave girl, whimpered, looking up at me. The pastry, which she had been diminishing, bit by miniscule bit, flake by tiny, damp flake, with her tongue, was clutched in both her hands. As she ate thus, the palcement of her arms constituted a provocative modesty, on e terminable, of course, at my will. Similarly, her small, delicate wrists were close together, so close that they might have been linked by slave bracelets.
'Please, Master,' she whimpered.
'Hazard a game,' suggested the paunchy fellow.
I looked down into the eyes of the slave girl. She looked up at me, and slowly and sensuously, with exquisite care, licked at the sugary, white glazing on the pastry. She might be helpless with need, but I saw she had had training.
'I have another game in mind,' I said.
She looked up at me, flakes of the pastry and glazing about her mouth, and kissed me. 'I want to love you,' she said. I tasted the sugar on her lips.
'I can understand such games,' said the paunchy fellow. 'It is pleasant to have a naked islave in one's arms.'
'Yes,' I agreed.
