"Charles DeVet & Katherine MacLean - Cosmic Checkmate" - читать интересную книгу автора (DeVet Charles)

blundered openly. The luck that saved me had been undeserved.

Opposite me, across the board, the bleach-skinned hand of the oldster
was beginning to waver with indecision as each pukt was placed. He was
seeing defeat, and not wishing to see it.

In eight more minutes I completed the route of his forces and closed
out the game. In winning I had lost only two pukts. The other's defeat was
crushing, but my ruthlessness had been deliberate. I wanted my
reputation to spread.

My sign, and the game in progress, by now had attracted a line of
challengers, but as the oldster left the line broke and most of the others
shook their heads and moved back, then crowded around the booth and
good-naturedly elbowed their way to positions of better vantage.

I knew then that I had set my lure with an irresistible bait. On a world
where the Game was played from earliest childhood—was in fact a vital
aspect of their culture—my challenge could not be ignored. I pocketed the
loser's blue slip and nodded to the first in line of the four men who still
waited to try me.

This second man played a better game than the old one. He had a fine
tight-knit offensive, with a good grasp of values, but his weakness showed
early in the game when I saw him hesitate and waver before making a
simple move in a defensive play. He was not skilled in the strategy of
retreat and defense, or not suited to it by temperament. He would be
unable to cope with a swift forward press, I decided.

I was right.

Some challengers bet more, some less; all lost on the second game. I
purchased a nut and fruit confection from a passing food vender and ate it
for a sparse lunch while I played through the late afternoon hours.

By the time Velda's distant sun had begun to print long shadows across
the Fair grounds, I was certain that word of my booth had spread well.

The crowd about the railing of my stand was larger—but the players
were fewer. Sometimes I had a break of several minutes before one made a
decision to try his skill. And there were no more challenges from ordinary
players. Still the results were the same. None had sufficient adroitness to
give me more than a passing contest. Until Caertin Vlosmin made his
appearance.

At the beginning of the game with Vlosmin I had no way of knowing
that his game would be different. I noted only casually that he introduced
himself rather formally before sitting, but I marked it as merely the exact
manners of a conservative man, or a desire for ostentation. I was little
interested in which.