The Player of Games

lighter in colour than Gurgeh, but still much darker than the average Azadian. It was notoriously difficult to judge the age of Culture people, but Gurgeh guessed the man was a decade or so younger than he. 'You do drink?' Za said, looking suddenly alarmed.

'I've been bypassing the stuff,' Gurgeh told him.

Za shook his head emphatically. 'Don't do that with grif,' he said, patting Gurgeh's hand. 'Would be tragic. Ought to be a treasonable offence, in fact. Gland Crystal Fugue State instead. Brilliant combination; blows your neurons out your ass. Grif is stunning stuff. Comes from Echronedal you know; shipped over for the games. Only make it during the Oxygen Season; stuff we're getting should be two Great Years old. Costs a fortune. Opened more legs than a cosmetic laser. Anyway.' Za sat back, clasping his hands and looking seriously at Gurgeh. 'What do you think of the Empire? Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it? I mean, vicious but sexy, right?' He jumped forward as a male servant carrying a tray with a couple of small, stoppered jugs came up to them. 'Ah-ha!' He took the tray with its jugs in exchange for another scrap of paper. He unstoppered both jugs and handed one to Gurgeh. He raised his jug to his lips, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a chant. Finally he drank, keeping his eyes tightly closed.

When he opened his eyes, Gurgeh was sitting with one elbow on his knee, his chin in his hand, looking quizzically at him. 'Did they recruit you like this?' he asked. 'Or is it an effect the Empire has?'

Za laughed throatily, gazing up to the ceiling where a vast painting showed ancient seaships fighting some millennia-old engagement. 'Both!' Za said, still chuckling. He nodded at Gurgeh's jug, an amused but — so it seemed to Gurgeh — more intelligent, look on his face now; a look which made Gurgeh revise his estimation of the other man's age upward by several decades. 'You going to drink that stuff?' Za said. 'I just spent an unskilled worker's yearly wage getting it for you.'

Gurgeh looked into the other man's bright green eyes for a moment, then raised the jug to his lips. 'To the unskilled workers, Mr Za,' he said, and drank.

Za laughed uproariously again, head back. 'I think we're going to get along just fine, game-player Gurgeh.'

The grif was sweet, scented, subtle and smoky. Za drained his own jug, holding the thin spout over his opened mouth to savour the last few drops. He looked at Gurgeh and smacked his lips. 'Slips down like liquid silk,' he said. He put the jug on the floor. 'So; you're going to play the great game, eh, Jernau Gurgeh?'

'That's what I'm here for.' Gurgeh sipped a little more of the heady liquor.

'Let me give you some advice,' Za said, briefly touching his arm. 'Don't bet on anything. And watch the women — or men, or both, or whatever you're into. You could get into some very nasty situations if you aren't careful. Even if you mean to stay celibate you might find some of them — women especially — just can't wait to see what's between your legs. And they take that sort of stuff ridiculously seriously. You want any body-games; tell me. I've got contacts; I can set it up nice and discreet. Utter discretion and complete secrecy totally guaranteed; ask anybody.' He laughed, then touched Gurgeh's arm again and looked serious. 'I'm serious,' he said. 'I can fix you up.'

'I'll bear that in mind,' Gurgeh said, drinking. 'Thanks for the warning.'

'My pleasure; no problem. I've been here eight… nine years now; envoy before me only lasted twenty days; got chucked out for consorting with a minister's wife.' Za shook his head and chuckled. 'I mean, I like her style, but shit; a minister! Crazy bitch was lucky she was only thrown out; if she'd been one of their own they'd have been up her orifices with acid leeches before the prison gate had shut. Makes me cross my legs just thinking about it;'

Before Gurgeh could reply, or Za could continue, there was a terrific crashing noise from the top of the great staircase, like the sound of thousands of breaking bottles. It echoed through the ballroom. 'Damn, the Emperor,' Za said, standing. He nodded at Gurgeh's jug. 'Drink up, man!'

Gurgeh stood up slowly; he pushed the jug into Za's hands. 'You have it. I think you appreciate it more.' Za restoppered the jug and shoved it into a fold in his robe.

There was a lot of activity at the top of the stairs. People in the ballroom were milling about too, apparently forming a sort of human corridor which led from the bottom of the staircase to a large, glittering seat set on a low dais covered with gold-cloth.

'Better get you into your place,' Za said; he went to grab Gurgeh's wrist again, but Gurgeh raised his hand suddenly, smoothing his beard; Za missed.

Gurgeh nodded forward. 'After you,' he said. Za winked and strode off. They came up behind the group of people in front of the throne.

'Here's your boy, Pequil,' Za announced to the worried-looking apex, then went to stand further away. Gurgeh found himself standing beside Pequil, with Flere-Imsaho floating behind him at waist level, humming assiduously.

'Mr Gurgee, we were starting to worry about you,' Pequil whispered, glancing nervously up at the staircase.

'Were you?' Gurgeh said. 'How comforting.' Pequil didn't look very pleased. Gurgeh wondered if the apex had been addressed wrongly again.

'I have good news, Gurgee,' Pequil whispered. He looked up at Gurgeh, who tried hard to look inquisitive. 'I have succeeded in obtaining for you a personal introduction to Their Royal Highness The Emperor-Regent Nicosar!'

'I am greatly honoured.' Gurgeh smiled.

'Indeed! Indeed! A most singular and exceptional honour!' Pequil gulped.

'So don't fuck up,' Flere-Imsaho muttered from behind. Gurgeh looked at the machine.

The crashing noise sounded again, and suddenly, sweeping down the staircase, quickly filling its breadth, a great gaudy wave of people flowed down towards the floor. Gurgeh assumed the one in the lead carrying a long staff was the Emperor — or Emperor-Regent as Pequil had called him — but at the bottom of the stairs that apex stood aside and shouted, 'Their Imperial Highness of the College of Candsev, Prince of Space, Defender of the Faith, Duke of Groasnachek, Master of the Fires of Echronedal, the Emperor-Regent Nicosar the first!'

The Emperor was dressed all in black; a medium-sized, serious-looking apex, quite unornamented. He was surrounded by fabulously dressed Azadians of all sexes, including comparatively conservatively uniformed male and apex guards toting big swords and small guns; preceding the Emperor was a variety of large animals, four- and six- legged, variously coloured, collared and muzzled, and held on the end of emerald- and ruby-chained leads by fat, almost naked males whose oiled skins glowed like frosted gold in the ballroom lights.

The Emperor stopped and talked to some people (who knelt when he approached), further down the line on the far side, then he crossed with his entourage to the side Gurgeh was on.

The ballroom was almost totally silent. Gurgeh could hear the throaty breathing of several of the tamed carnivores. Pequil was sweating. A pulse beat quickly in the hollow of his cheek.

Nicosar came closer. Gurgeh thought the Emperor looked, if anything, a little less impressively hard and determined than the average Azadian. He was slightly stooped, and even when he was talking to somebody only a couple of metres away, Gurgeh could hear only the guest's side of the conversation. Nicosar looked a little younger than Gurgeh had expected.

Despite having been advised about his personal introduction by Pequil, Gurgeh nevertheless felt mildly surprised when the blackclothed apex stopped in front of him.

'Kneel,' Flere-Imsaho hissed.

Gurgeh knelt on one knee. The silence seemed to deepen. 'Oh shit,' the humming machine muttered. Pequil moaned.

The Emperor looked down at Gurgeh, then gave a small smile. 'Sir one-knee; you must be our foreign guest. We wish you a good game.'

Gurgeh realised what he'd done wrong, and went down on the other knee too, but the Emperor gave a small wave with one ringed hand and said, 'No, no; we admire originality. You shall greet us on one knee in future.'

'Thank you, Your Highness,' Gurgeh said, with a small bow. The Emperor nodded, and turned to walk further up the line.

Pequil gave a quivering sigh.