The Player of Games

therefore, Bermoiya himself. He doubted the judge had any great desire to use the option, but the situation had grown serious for the Empire; it had assumed he'd be beaten by now, and based its strategy of exaggerating the threat he posed to them on that assumption. This supposedly winning play was turning into a small disaster. Rumours were that heads had already rolled in the Imperial Office over the affair. Bermoiya would have been given his orders; Gurgeh had to be stopped.

Gurgeh had checked on the fate the apex would suffer in the now unlikely event it was he and not Gurgeh who lost. Apicial gelding meant the full and permanent removal of the reversible apex vagina and ovaries. Thinking about that, considering what would be done to the steady, stately judge if he lost, Gurgeh realised he hadn't properly thought through the implications of the physical option. Even if he did win, how could he let another being be mutilated? If Bermoiya lost, it would be the end of him; career, family, everything. The Empire did not allow the regeneration or replacement of any wager lost body parts; the judge's loss would be permanent and possibly fatal; suicide was not unknown in such cases. Perhaps it would be best if Gurgeh did lose.

The trouble was he didn't want to. He didn't feel any personal animosity towards Bermoiya, but he desperately wanted to win this game, and the next one, and the one after that. He hadn't realised how seductive Azad was when played in its home environment. While it was technically the same game he'd played on the Limiting Factor, the whole feeling he had about it, playing it where it was meant to be played, was utterly different; now he realised… now he knew why the Empire had survived because of the game; Azad itself simply produced an insatiable desire for more victories, more power, more territory, more dominance…

Flere-Imsaho stayed in the module that evening. Gurgeh contacted the ship and discussed his forlorn position in the game; the ship could, as usual, see some unlikely ways out, but they were ways he'd already seen for himself. Recognising they were there was one thing though; following them through on the board itself in the midst of play was another matter. So the ship was no great help there.

Gurgeh gave up analysing the game and asked the Limiting Factor what he could do about ameliorating the bet he had with Bermoiya if unlikely though it was — he won, and it was the judge who had to face the surgeon. The answer was nothing. The bet was on and that was it. Neither of them could do anything; they had to play to a finish. If they both refused to play then they would both suffer the bet- penalties.

'Jernau Gurgeh,' the ship said, sounding hesitant. 'I need to know what you would like me to do, if things go badly tomorrow.'

Gurgeh looked down. He'd been waiting for this. 'You mean, do I want you to come in and snatch me off here, or go through with it and be picked up later, with my tail but not much else between my legs, and wait for everything to regrow? But of course having kept the Culture sweet with the Empire in the process.' He didn't try to disguise the sarcasm in his voice.

'More or less,' the ship said, after the delay. 'The problem is, while it would cause less of a fuss if you did go through with it, I'll have to displace or destroy your genitals anyway, if they are removed; the Empire would have access to rather too much information about us, if they did a full analysis.'

Gurgeh almost laughed. 'You're saying my balls are some sort of state secret?'

'Effectively. So we're going to annoy the Empire anyway, even if you do let them operate on you.'

Gurgeh was still thinking, even after the delayed signal arrived. He curled his tongue in his mouth, feeling the tiny lump under the soft tissue. 'Ah, fuck it,' he said, eventually. 'Watch the game; if I've definitely lost, I'll try and hold out for as long as possible; somewhere, anywhere. When I'm obviously doing that, come in; zap us off here and make my apologies to Contact. If I just cave in… let it happen. I'll see how I feel tomorrow.'

'Very well,' the ship said, while Gurgeh sat stroking his beard, thinking that, if nothing else, he'd been given the choice. But if they hadn't been going to remove the evidence and possibly cause a diplomatic incident anyway, would Contact have been so accommodating? It didn't matter. But he knew in his heart, after that conversation, he'd lost the will to win.

The ship had more news. It had just received a signal from Chamlis Amalk-ney, promising a longer message soon, but for the mean time just letting him know that Olz Hap had finally done it; she'd achieved a Full Web. A Culture player had — at last — produced the ultimate Stricken result. The young lady was the toast of Chiark and the Culture game-players. Chamlis had already congratulated her on Gurgeh's behalf, but expected he'd want to send her a signal of his own. It wished him well.

Gurgeh switched the screen off and sat back. He sat and stared at the blank space for a while, unsure what to know, or think, or remember, or even be. A sad smile touched one side of his face, for a while.

Flere-Imsaho floated over to his shoulder.

'Jernau Gurgeh. Are you tired?'

He turned to it eventually. 'What? Yes; a little.' He stood up, stretched. 'Doubt I'll sleep much, though.'

'I thought that might be the case. I wondered if you would like to come with me.'

'What, to look at birds? I don't think so, drone. Thanks anyway.'

'I wasn't thinking of our feathered friends, actually. I have not always gone to watch them when I've gone out at nights. Sometimes I went to different parts of the city; to look for whatever species of birds might be there, at first, but later because… well; because.'

Gurgeh frowned. 'Why do you want me to come with you?'

'Because we might be leaving here rather quickly tomorrow, and it occurred to me that you've seen very little of the city.'

Gurgeh waved one hand. 'Za showed me quite enough of that.'

'I doubt he showed you what I'm thinking of. There are many different things to see.'

'I'm not interested in seeing the sights, drone.'

'The sights I'm thinking of will interest you.'

'Would they now?'

'I believe so. I think I know you well enough to tell. Please come, Jernau Gurgeh. You'll be glad, I swear. Please come. You did say you wouldn't sleep, didn't you? Well then, what do you have to lose?' The drone's fields were their normal green-yellow colour, quiet and controlled. Its voice was low, serious.

The man's eyes narrowed. 'What are you up to, drone?'

'Please, please come with me, Gurgeh.' The drone floated off towards the nose of the module. Gurgeh stood, watching it. It stopped by the door from the lounge. 'Please, Jernau Gurgeh. I swear you won't regret this.'

Gurgeh shrugged. 'Yeah, yeah, all right.' He shook his head. 'Let's go out to play,' he muttered to himself.

He followed the drone as it moved towards the module nose. There was a compartment there with a couple of AG bikes, a few floater harnesses and some other pieces of equipment.

'Put on a harness, please. I won't be a moment.' The drone left Gurgeh to fasten the AG harness on over his shorts and shirt. It reappeared shortly afterwards holding a long, black, hooded cloak. 'Now put this on, please.'

Gurgeh put the cloak on over the harness. Flere-Imsaho shoved the hood up over his head and tied it so that Gurgeh's face was hidden from the sides and in deep shadow from the front. The harness didn't show beneath the thick material. The lights in the compartment dimmed and went out, and Gurgeh heard something move overhead. He looked up to see a square of dim stars directly above him.

'I'll control your harness, if that's all right with you,' the drone whispered. Gurgeh nodded.

He was lifted quickly into the darkness. He did not dip again as he'd expected, but kept going up into the fragrant warmth of the city night. The cloak fluttered quietly around him; the city was a swirl of lights, a seemingly never-ending plain of scattered radiance. The drone was a small, still shadow by his shoulder.

They set out over the city. They overflew roads and rivers and great buildings and domes, ribbons and clumps and towers of light, areas of vapour drifting over darkness and fire, rearing towers where reflections burned and lights soared, quivering stretches of dark water and broad dark parks of grass and trees. Finally they started to drop.

They landed in an area where there were relatively few lights, dropping between two darkened, windowless buildings. His feet touched down in the dirt of an alley.

'Excuse me,' the drone said, and nudged its way into the hood until it was floating up-ended by Gurgeh's left