needed time to think about it before assimilating more. Of course iron was important; all the warriors of Steppe used iron weapons, and the skilled technicians and smiths of the mountain regions were virtually immune from attack, no matter which nation controlled the empire. Alp had not realized that old Cimmerian had been responsible, however deviously, for the world's acquisition of this blessing.
The cartoons looked foolish but were not. The magic brain of the Game Machine was behind them, its potency manifesting like the bright sun veiled by clouds. The pictures gave only cursory details on the political situation but did bring out the important fundamental points. The problem was to relate that information to current events in the Game, so as to know better than rival players how to improve one's own position.
Alp had prevailed over the four Kirghiz in part because of his superior horse and bow: that was a similar principle. In the Game there were many other improvements in weaponry; if he failed to appreciate their nature, he would lose. So already he had profited from the cartoon insight!
Better to absorb Game history in easy stages, so that he would not become confused and misread it. He could not afford to make any serious mistake! He had ten Days to make good; while that was not much time, he could spare a couple to assimilate the past properly. His own prior knowledge of history would simplify the task.
Alp snapped his fingers twice. The girl reappeared, rubbing her eyes sleepily. 'Now,' he said, indicating her clothing.
She was voluptuous and tractable, so it went well enough. Then: 'Hey!' she cried, confused.
Alp paused. 'What is the matter, girl?'
'What are you trying to do?'
'If it isn't yet obvious, girl, it soon will be. Silence, now.'
She obeyed, but it was apparent that she was unfamiliar with his technique. She was vaguely resistive despite his skill. Another Galactic anomaly: their women were unversed in the refinements of pleasure!
First the loss of literacy, now this. How much else had mankind forgotten in the past fifteen centuries?
After the girl left, bemused but educated, Alp checked the weapons he had set aside. This was a conditioned reflex with him. They were in order, except for one item: his marked sword had been exchanged for another. Uga's doing, obviously; probably the eunuch had been instructed to do it at the first opportunity. But why?
He tested the new sword and found it identical to the original. It was not a defective weapon in any way that he could tell.
Interesting. He marked it with another Uigur-script identification so that he could differentiate it from the first. He would keep this little riddle in mind—and watch his weapons more carefully hereafter.
At night—ten o'clock in the new hour scale, the month of December in the Christian calendar—Uga summoned Alp to a private conference. That meant another person-to-person meeting, not a picture-screen interview. That also made it easier for Alp to relate, for he did not fully trust these magical communicators.
Uga was alone. 'Are the facilities satisfactory?' he inquired.
Obviously he knew. Why had he taken Alp's sword? 'Yes.'
'Are you aware that I am not in special favor with the Khagan?'
'What intelligent Uigur
'A clever rejoinder,' Uga said dryly. 'But simple answers suffice. Because I am out of favor, I am assigned few worthy players from above. I must raid recruits instead. That is a disadvantage, for there can be resentment.'
Alp nodded.
'The Khagan himself is not in special favor with the T'ang emperor of China, despite all the Chinese protestations to the contrary. It is in my mind that there may be significant changes soon, and I should prefer to place myself advantageously, if you understand.'
Alp merely nodded again.
'Does your ability to foresee history cover this aspect?'
'In part,' Alp said. 'When the Khagan dies your position in the Uigur hierarchy will be enhanced. But the Uigur empire will then be no more than a kingdom.'
'All very well,' Uga said. 'But that will be a decade in the proving. I require more immediate information.'
'I shall answer all questions as directly as I can.'
'I don't want shamans' riddles!'
'Who does?' Alp answered, and that was so like the way of the shaman that they both had to laugh.
'Let's try just a Day or two ahead. I have a number of nobles in my service. Can you predict how each will act?'
This was difficult, for Alp had had little direct association with Uga's group in life and did not know all his nobles. Also, the news desired was eight to ten years old: a stiff test of memory, when so much had happened since. Finally, he had no assurance that the actions of minor characters in the Game would be identical to those of history; the Game was only a Machine-governed reconstruction, subject to many minor distortions.
'I am not sure. Some I should know.'
'Intriguing limits to your powers,' Uga remarked, not intrigued.
'I am better on general events. There are so many people.'
'Consider Qutli.'
Alp shook his head. This was just like the Game Machine's interrogation! 'I know no noble of that name.'
'Bilgo.'
