Piers Anthony - Unicorn Point

“Dragon Duel,” she said.

A word lighted below her grid: ERROR—NO SUCH GAME EXISTS.

“But it fits the category,” she said. “The listed choices are only suggestions; the players can choose what they wish, as long as they remain within the definitions of the encounter.” She glanced up at Purple. “Isn’t that correct, sir?”

The Citizen netted his gaze from her bosom. “True, doxie. You want it, you can have it.”

“I want it.”

Now the voice of the Game Computer sounded. “An extension of the game options has been proposed. Judgment Committee number 452 report immediately to Game Console 23.”

Purple licked his lips. “You really want to do this, peaches?” he inquired with relish. He, as a Phaze fan, had long experience with mocked-up dragons.

“I do.”

“I’ll make you a side deal, sweetbuns. I’ll give you that arena—”

“No deal,” she snapped. She might win or she might lose, but she had no intention of committing her body to his lechery in addition. Her ploy was that he would be so intrigued by the new contest that he would elect to play it anyway. There was a stir in the audience chamber as the members of the Judgment Committee arrived. A number of the watchers evidently had not known that specific games or even categories could be added in this manner. To have it happen during a contest as important as this was rare excitement. The committee consisted of one female Citizen, one male Citizen, one female serf, one male serf, and the Game Computer, represented by a humanoid robot whose outer surface was transparent so that its wires, hydraulics and electronic components showed. It took charge at once. “The serf Sheen will explain the nature of the proposed game.”

Sheen was ready. “The Dragon Duel would consist of each player guiding an android or cyborg flying dragon whose weapons would be those of the genuine dragons of Phaze: fiery breath and metallic talons. The technology of such creations is available, and the nature of dragons is known. The players will control their dragons in the same manner they control other animals: by projecting commands to them. The dragon that downs its opponent will be the winner.”

“Modification,” Citizen Purple said. “Instead of sending commands, the players will actually ride their dragons. This will make the game far more personal and dramatic.” That caught Sheen by surprise. She had expected him to be silent, letting her make or break her case. If the committee concluded that the proposed game was impractical, then the square on which she had asked to enter it was forfeit, and her opponent would get to place a choice of his own there. Thus Purple stood a reasonable chance of gaining an advantage merely by keeping his mouth shut. But as it was, he had become a co-proponent of the notion, and so would gain no advantage if it were turned down. This was something he was entitled to do, just as she was entitled to ask for the new game.

The male Citizen on the committee had a question. “Large creature constructs are valuable. How would you justify the waste of resources entailed in shooting down expensive dragons?”

“By making the weapons token, sir,” she replied. “The dragon fire could be a beam of light that would trigger the short-circuiting of key circuits in the victim where it struck. There would be no loss of equipment, and the dragons could be used repeatedly without suffering actual damage.”

The female serf had a question for Purple. “Sir, you say the players will ride the dragons. What if they fall off?”

Citizen Purple eyed her. She was reasonably young and pretty, and flushed becomingly under her gaze. “Harnesses,” he said. “Saddles. No one will fall unless the dragon does, and it will be protected from crashing.”

“The Game facilities are limited,” the female Citizen said. “Where would such a game be played?”

Sheen knew she was in trouble. “I had thought of small dragons, sir. In Phaze there are dragons of all sizes, and some are hardly bigger than birds, and could compete in an existing arena, controlled by sent directives.”

“As it happens,” Purple said, “I have larger models of dragons on my estate at the Purple Mountain Range, that can be ridden. I will make my estate and equipment available to the Game Annex for this limited purpose. There will be no cost to the city.”

Sheen was amazed. Purple was actively pursuing her ploy! She had known he had mock fantasy creatures on his monstrous estate, but had never thought he would offer these for public use. Her notion had been intended to catch his fancy; it had succeeded beyond her expectation. “How long would it take to set up?” the male citizen in quired.

“No time,” Purple replied grandly. “The dragons and facilities are available now.”

The committee consulted, then voted. The game was judged on feasibility and interest; Citizen Purple’s offer made it feasible, his way, and it was obvious that everyone was interested. The game was accepted.

TERTIARY GRID: ID7G

Physical Animal-Assisted Combat, Discontinuous Surface

9 10 11 Cock Fight Owl Bomb Pigeon Kite

Dog Fight Sparrow Spar Eagle Duel

Jet Birds Dragon Duel Hawk Lasso

Sheen realized that she had misplayed her ploy. She had not allowed for the Citizen’s modification, and now the new game was far more to his specification than to hers. Still, the dynamics of managing a flying dragon should be similar, whether done by remote suggestion or direct personal contact.

But they still had the grid to play. Purple had the choice of numbers or letters—and he amazed her again by taking the letters. That gave her the chance to choose row 11 and be guaranteed a game of her choice.

“Take it, luscious,” the Citizen said grandly. “You asked for it, you got it; now put your body where your mouth is.” He really wanted to play that game! Sheen realized that she was committed; she had asked for it, and had gotten it, and now would look like a bad sport if she didn’t follow through. Of course she should not let appearances interfere with sensible choosing—yet it did seem sensible to her. She had rehearsed the dynamics of flying in the past; she should be able to manage a properly designed dragon.

She touched 11. Immediately the box lighted. They had selected Dragon Duel.

The Citizen’s estate turned out to be capacious indeed. It covered a region of the Purple Mountain Range hundreds of kilometers square. Citizen Blue had the greatest financial leverage, therefore the most power, but he had never gone in for luxurious surroundings. Purple obviously believed in catering to his selfish interests. But it was impressive not only for scale; the detail was intricate. This was a replica of Phaze, so realistic as to be deceptive. Sheen had been there, decades ago when she was new, and her memory banks were untarnished by time; she could appreciate the accuracy of this replication. Purple’s devotion to the image of Phaze was obviously genuine.

Citizen Blue brought in his own crew to check the mechanism of the dragons. They were in perfect working order: giant metal and plastic bodies governed by living animal brains crafted in the laboratory for this purpose. When they were put through test flight, they seemed indeed alive, glaring balefully around as if wishing to chornp the spectators. Probablythose living minds hated this servitude, and would in deed attack if not bound by effective strictures. The dragons were ready. Sheen mounted hers and was given instructions: the creature was responsive to the pressures of the rider’s legs, as with a horse, with additional leg commands for ascending and descending. It would not react to the human voice, as this was unreliable during wind-sheer ing maneuvers. It would obey immediately, so that very soon it would seem like an extension of herself. She was also per mitted to take off first, so as to gain the feel of it before the combat started.