Gurgeh sat in the main screen-room of Ikroh. The windows were blanked out and the wall holoscreen was on; the Contact drone was controlling the room systems. It put the lights out. The screen went blank, then showed the main galaxy, in 2-D, from a considerable distance. The two Clouds were nearest Gurgeh's point of view, the larger Cloud a semi-spiral with a long tail leading away from the galaxy, and the smaller Cloud vaguely Y-shaped. 'The Greater and Lesser Clouds,' the drone Worthil said. 'Each about one hundred thousand light years away from where we are now. No doubt you've admired them from Ikroh in the past; they're quite visible, though you're on the under-edge of the main galaxy relative to them, and so looking at them through it. We've found what you might consider a rather interesting game… here.' A green dot appeared near the centre of the smaller Cloud. Gurgeh looked at the drone. 'Isn't that,' he said, 'rather far away? I take it you're suggesting I go there.' 'It is a long way away, and we do suggest just that. The journey will take nearly two years on the fastest ships, due to the nature of the energy grid; it's more tenuous out there, between the star-clumps. Inside the galaxy such a journey would take less than a year.' 'But that means I'd be away four years,' Gurgeh said, staring at the screen. His mouth had gone dry. 'More like five,' the drone said matter-of-factly. 'That's… a long time.' 'It is, and I'll certainly understand if you decline our invitation. Though we do think you'll find the game itself interesting. First of all, however, I have to explain a little about the setting, which is what makes the game unique.' The green dot expanded, became a rough circle. The screen went suddenly out-holo, filling the room with stars. The rough green circle of suns became an even rougher sphere. Gurgeh experienced the momentary swimming sensation he sometimes felt when surrounded by space or its impression. 'These stars,' Worthil said - the green-coloured stars, at least a couple of thousand suns, flashed once - 'are under the control of what one can only describe as an empire. Now…' The drone turned to look at him. The little machine lay in space like some impossibly large ship, stars in front of it as well as behind it. 'It is unusual for us to discover an imperial power-system in space. As a rule, such archaic forms of authority wither long before the relevant species drags itself off the home planet, let alone cracks the lightspeed problem, which of course one has to do, to rule effectively over any worthwhile volume. 'Every now and again, however, Contact disturbs some particular ball of rock and discovers something nasty underneath. On every occasion, there is a specific and singular reason, some special circumstance which allows the general rule to go by the board. In the case of the conglomerate you see before you - apart from the obvious factors, such as the fact that we didn't get out there until fairly recently, and the lack of any other powerful influence in the Lesser Cloud - that special circumstance is a game.' It took a while to sink in. Gurgeh looked at the machine. 'A
game
?' he said to it. 'That game is called "Azad" by the natives. It is important enough for the empire itself to take its name from the game. You are looking at the Empire of Azad.' Gurgeh did just that. The drone went on. 'The dominant species is humanoid, but, very unusually - and certain analyses claim that this too has been a factor in the survival of the empire as a social system - it is composed of three sexes.' Three figures appeared in the centre of Gurgeh's field of vision, as though standing in the middle of the ragged sphere of stars. They were rather shorter than Gurgeh if the scale was right. Each of them looked odd in different ways, but they shared what looked to Gurgeh to be rather short legs and slightly bloated, flat and very pale faces. 'The one on the left,' Worthil said, 'is a male, carrying the testes and penis. The middle one is equipped with a kind of reversible vagina, and ovaries. The vagina turns inside-out to implant the fertilised egg in the third sex, on the right, which has a womb. The one in the middle is the dominant sex.' Gurgeh had to think about this. 'The what?' he said. 'The dominant sex,' Worthil repeated. 'Empires are synonymous with centralised - if occasionally schismatised - hierarchical power structures in which influence is restricted to an economically privileged class retaining its advantages through - usually - a judicious use of oppression and skilled manipulation of both the society's information dissemination systems and its lesser - as a rule nominally independent - power systems. In short, it's all about dominance. The intermediate - or apex - sex you see standing in the middle there controls the society and the empire. Generally, the males are used as soldiers and the females as possessions. Of course, it's a little more complicated than that, but you get the idea?' 'Well.' Gurgeh shook his head. 'I don't understand how it works, but if you say it does… all right.' He rubbed his beard. 'I take it this means these people can't change sex.' 'Correct. Genetechnologically, it's been within their grasp for hundreds of years, but it's forbidden. Illegal, if you remember what that means.' Gurgeh nodded. The machine went on. 'It looks perverse and wasteful to us, but then one thing that empires are not about is the efficient use of resources and the spread of happiness; both are typically accomplished despite the economic short-circuiting - corruption and favouritism, mostly - endemic to the system.' 'Okay,' Gurgeh said. 'I'll have a lot of questions to ask later, but go on. What about this game?' 'Indeed. Here is one of the boards.' '… You're joking,' Gurgeh said eventually. He sat forward, gazing at the holo still picture spread before him. The starfield and the three humanoids had vanished, and Gurgeh and the drone called Worthil were, seemingly, at one end of a huge room many times larger than the one they in fact occupied. Before them stretched a floor covered with a stunningly complicated and seemingly chaotically abstract and irregular mosaic pattern, which in places rose up like hills and dipped into valleys. Looking closer, it could be seen that the hills were not solid, but rather stacked, tapering levels of the same bewildering meta-pattern, creating linked, multi-layered pyramids over the fantastic landscape, which, on still closer inspection, had what looked like bizarrely sculpted game-pieces standing on its riotously coloured surface. The whole construction must have measured at least twenty metres to a side. 'That,' Gurgeh asked, 'is a board?' He swallowed. He had never seen, never heard about, never had the least hint of a game as complicated as this one must surely be, if those were individual pieces and areas. 'One of them.' 'How many are there?' It couldn't be real. It had to be a joke. They were making fun of him. No human brain could possibly cope with a game on such a scale. It was impossible. It had to be. 'Three. All that size, plus numerous minor ones, played with cards as well. Let me give you some of the background to the game. 'First, the name; "Azad" means "machine", or perhaps "system", in the wide sense which would include any functioning entity, such as an animal or a flower, as well as something like myself, or a waterwheel. The game has been developed over several thousand years, reaching its present form about eight hundred years ago, around the same time as the institutionalisation of the species' still extant religion. Since then the game has altered little. It dates in its finalised form, then, from about the time of the hegemonisation of the empire's home planet, Eä, and the first, relativistic exploration of nearby space.' Now the view was of a planet, hanging huge in the room in front of Gurgeh; blue-white and brilliant and slowly, slowly, revolving against a background of dark space. 'Eä,' the drone said. 'Now; the game is used as an absolutely integral part of the power-system of the empire. Put in the crudest possible terms, whoever wins the game becomes emperor.' Gurgeh looked round slowly at the drone, which looked back. 'I kid you not,' it said dryly. 'Are you serious?' Gurgeh said, nonetheless. 'Quite entirely,' the drone said. 'Becoming emperor does constitute a rather unusual… prize,' the machine said, 'and the whole truth, as you might imagine, is much more complicated than that. The game of Azad is used not so much to determine which person will rule, but which tendency within the empire's ruling class will have the upper hand, which branch of economic theory will be followed, which creeds will be recognised within the religious apparat, and which political policies will be followed. The game is also used as an exam for both entry into and promotion within the empire's religious, educational, civil administrational, judicial and military establishments. 'The idea, you see, is that Azad is so complex, so subtle, so flexible and so demanding that it is as precise and comprehensive a model of life as it is possible to construct. Whoever succeeds at the game succeeds in life; the same qualities are required in each to ensure dominance.' 'But…' Gurgeh looked at the drone beside him, and seemed to feel the presence of the planet before them as an almost physical force, something he felt drawn to, pulled towards, 'is that
true
?' The planet disappeared and they were back looking at the vast game-board again. The holo was in motion now, though silently, and he could see the alien people moving around, shifting pieces and standing around the edges of the board. 'It doesn't have to be totally true,' the drone said, 'but cause and effect are not perfectly polarised here; the set-up assumes that the game and life are the same thing, and such is the pervasive nature of the
idea
of the game within the society that just by believing that, they make it so. It becomes true; it is willed into actuality. Anyway; they can't be too far wrong, or the empire would not exist at all. It is by definition a volatile and unstable system; Azad - the game - would appear to be the force that holds it together.' 'Wait a moment now,' Gurgeh said, looking at the machine. 'We both know Contact's got a reputation for being devious; you wouldn't be expecting me to go out there and become emperor or anything, would you?' For the first time, the drone showed an aura, flashing briefly red. There was a laugh in its voice, too. 'I wouldn't expect you'd get very far trying that. No; the empire falls under the general definition of a "state", and the one thing states always try to do is to ensure their own existence in perpetuity. The idea of anybody from outside coming in and trying to take the empire over would fill them with horror.
If
you decide you want to go, and
if
you are able to learn the game sufficiently well during the voyage, then there might be a chance, we think, going on your past performance as a game-player, of you qualifying as a clerk in the civil service, or as an army lieutenant. Don't forget; these people are surrounded by this game from birth. They have anti-agatic drugs, and the best players are about twice your own age. Even they, of course, are still learning. 'The point is not what you would be able to achieve in terms of the semi-barbarous social conditions the game is set up to support, but whether you can master the theory and practice of the game at all. Opinions in Contact differ over whether it is possible for even a game-player of your stature to compete successfully, just on general game-playing principles and a crash-course in the rules and practice.' Gurgeh watched the silent, alien figures move across the artificial landscape of the huge board. He couldn't do this. Five years? That was insane. He might as well let Mawhrin-Skel broadcast his shame; in five years he might have made a new life, leaving Chiark, finding something else to interest him besides games, changing his appearance… maybe changing his name; he had never heard of anybody doing that, but it must be possible. Certainly, the game of Azad, if it really existed, was quite fascinating. But why had he heard nothing of it until now? How could Contact keep something like this secret; and why? He rubbed, his beard, still watching the silent aliens as they stalked the broad board, stopping to move pieces or have others move them for them. They were alien, but they were people; humanoid:
They
had mastered this bizarre, outrageous game. 'They're not super-intelligent, are they?' he asked the drone. 'Hardly, retaining such a social system at this stage of technological development, game or no game. On average, the intermediate or apex sex is probably a little less bright than the average Culture human.' Gurgeh was mystified. 'That implies there's a difference between the sexes.' 'There is now,' Worthil said. Gurgeh didn't quite see what that meant, but the drone went on before he could ask any further questions. 'In fact, we are reasonably hopeful that you will be able to play an above-average game of Azad if you study for the two years your outward journey would take. It would require continued and comprehensive use of memory and learning-enhancing secretions, of course, and I might point out that possession of drug-glands alone would disqualify you from actually gaining any post within the empire through your game performance, even if you weren't an alien anyway. There is a strict ban on any "unnatural" influence being used during the game; all the gamerooms are electronically shielded to prevent the use of a computer link, and drug tests are carried out after every match. Your own body chemistry, as well as your alien nature and the fact that to them you are a heathen, means that you would - if you did decide to go - only be taking part in an honorary capacity.' 'Drone… Worthil…' Gurgeh said, turning to face it. 'I don't think I'll be going all that way, not so far, for so long… but I'd love to know more about this game; I want to discuss it, analyse it along with other-' 'Not possible,' the drone said. 'I'm allowed to tell you all that I am telling you, but none of this can go any further. You have given your word, Jernau Gurgeh.' 'And if I break it?' 'Everybody would think you'd made it up; there's nothing on accessible record to show any different.' 'Why is it all so secret, anyway? What are you frightened of?' 'The truth is, we don't know what to do, Jernau Gurgeh. This is a larger problem than Contact usually has to deal with; as a rule it's possible to go by the book; we've built up enough experience with every sort of barbarian society to know what does and does not work with each type; we monitor, we use controls, we cross-evaluate and Mind-model and generally take every possible precaution to make sure we're doing the right thing… but something like Azad is unique; there are no templates, no reliable precedents. We have to play it by ear, and that's something of a responsibility, dealing with an entire stellar empire. Which is why Special Circumstances has become involved; we're used to dealing with tricky situations. And frankly, with this one, we're sitting on it. If we let everybody know about Azad we may be pressured into making a decision just by the weight of public opinion… which may not sound like a bad thing, but might prove disastrous.' 'For whom?' Gurgeh said sceptically. 'The people of the empire, and the Culture. We might be forced into a high-profile intervention against the empire; it would hardly be war as such because we're way ahead of them technologically, but we'd have to become an occupying force to control them, and that would mean a huge drain on our resources as well as morale; in the end such an adventure would almost certainly be seen as a mistake, no matter the popular enthusiasm for it at the time. The people of the empire would lose by uniting against us instead of the corrupt regime which controls them, so putting the clock back a century or two, and the Culture would lose by emulating those we despise; invaders, occupiers, hegemonists.' 'You seem very sure there would be a wave of popular opinion.' 'Let me explain something to you, Jernau Gurgeh,' the drone said. 'The game of Azad is a gambling game, frequently even at the highest levels. The form these wagers take is occasionally macabre. I very much doubt that you'd be involved on the sort of levels you'd be playing at if you did agree to take part, but it is quite usual for them to wager prestige, honours, possessions, slaves, favours, land and even physical licence on the outcome of games.' Gurgeh waited, but eventually sighed and said, 'All right… what's "physical licence"?' 'The players wager tortures and mutilations against each other. 'You mean, if you lose a game… you have… these things done to you?' 'Exactly. One might bet, say, the loss of a finger against aggravated male-to-apex rectal rape.' Gurgeh looked levelly at the machine for a few seconds, then said slowly, nodding, 'Well… that