Stile, amazed, accepted it. He had never heard of a Citizen shaking hands with a serf! This was an extension of courtesy that paralleled that of the Herd Stallion in Phaze: the disciplined encounter of respected opponents. Phaze! Suddenly Stile realized what he had to offer. The knowledge of the existence of the alternate frame! The information might do the Citizen no good, since most people could not perceive the curtain between frames, let alone cross it, but it would surely be of interest to the man. There was no absolute prohibition about spreading the word, though Stile preferred not to. But if he won the Game, he wouldn’t have to. This seemed to be an acceptable risk.
“Sir,” Stile said quickly. “I do have information. I just remembered. I believe it would interest—“
“Then it is a bargain,” the Citizen said, squeezing Stile’s hand.
“Yes, sir. Only I hope you will not share the information with others, if—“
“Agreed. This is a private wager and a private matter between us—either way.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Second call for Game-pair 281,” the computer announced. “Appear at the grid within ten seconds or both forfeit.”
“You bucket of bolts!” the Rifleman snapped. “Whom do you suppose you are addressing?”
A lens swung about to fix on the Citizen. The response was instant. “Abject apologies, sir. Time limit is waived.” The Rifleman’s glance swept across the silent room.
“You may laugh now.”
The remaining serfs burst into laughter. “Rank hath its privileges,” the Rifleman said. He put his hand on Stile’s elbow, guiding him to the grid. This was a public mark of favor that awed the serfs present. Stile included. This Citizen had been friendly and reasonably solicitous throughout, but now he was being so when all eyes were upon him.
“You lout,” another Citizen said, laughing. “Now we’ll all have to show favor to our serfs!”
“What is Proton coming to?” a third Citizen inquired. This one was a woman, elaborately gowned and coined, with sparkling sapphires on her wrists and ankles and a nugget of Protonite on her forehead, reminding Stile of Neysa’s snub-hom in her girl-form. Parallelism again, perhaps. This Citizen, too, was smiling, seeming almost like a person.
It occurred to Stile that even Citizens might get bored with their routine existences, and appreciate comic relief on rare occasions. The Tourney was a great equalizer! Now he faced the Rifleman, the grid unit between them. This was a column inset with panels on opposite sides. The weight of the two men beside it caused the panels to il-luminate. Stile’s showed four categories across the top: 1. PHYSICAL 2. MENTAL 3. CHANCE 4. ARTS. Four more were down the side: A. NAKED B. TOOL C. MACHINE D. ANIMAL. The latter facet was highlighted:
Stile had to select from the letters.
He experienced the usual pre-Game tension, made worse by the fact that this was no routine Game, but a Round for the Tourney. And made worse yet by the fact that his opponent was a Citizen. What column would the Rifleman choose? PHYSICAL or MENTAL, surely; he was neither a gambler nor an artist, and he wanted a good game. He would want to get into 1B or 1C, tool- or machine-assisted physical games like tennis or shooting, where his major expertise lay, or into 2B where he might get into chess. He had won a Tourney Game dramatically in chess. Stile remembered now, on his way up; in fifteen years he had probably improved his game. It was necessary to stay clear of this: Stile could play chess well himself, but he had not had fifteen idle years to practice.
He was up against someone who really could play the Game. This could be the toughest opponent he would face in the entire Tourney. A good Game that he lost in a contest was no good; he needed a likely winner. His only real course seemed to be ANIMAL. Then he could get into horseracing or liontaming. His knees were weak, but this only became acute when he flexed them completely; he could do ordinary riding better than anyone he knew, and remained pretty good at trick-riding. His smaller weight would give him an advantage, for the Tourney made no allowances for size or sex. All games were unhandicapped. And he liked animals, while the Rifleman, an expert hunter, probably did not have as close rapport. Yes. Stile touched D. Immediately a new grid showed: ID, PHYSICAL/ANIMAL. The Rifleman had chosen as expected.
Now the top line was 1. SEPARATE 2. INTERACTIVE 3. COMBAT 4. COOPERATIVE, and the sideline was A.
FLAT B. VARIABLE C. DISCONTINUITY D. LIQUID.
