Chess With a Dragon by David Gerrold Page A

Larson, giggling. She looked positively tipsy.
    Madja frowned at her. “That would be easy part. I share them with you. But, no. This is not chess. This is—more like American game. Too much free-for-all. Not enough discipline. How can anyone play game that is all lies?”
    Yake looked up at her blearily. “What?”
    â€œIs not important. Was nasty shot.”
    â€œCheap shot. Never mind. Say it again.”
    Madja shrugged. “I said, ‘Is not chess. Is American game. Too much free-for-all.’” She sipped at her vhodka.
    â€œNo, you said something else—”
    She waved a hand. “That was nasty part. ‘How can anyone play game that is all lies?’” “You’re right, Madja! That is an American game. This isn’t chess! This is poker!”
    â€œPolka?”
    â€œPoker,” said Kasahara. “You know? The card game.”
    â€œAhh, yes!” Madja grinned and said something in Russian.
    â€œThey teach you that in the Navy?” asked Yake.
    â€œAmong other things, da .”
    â€œI don’t know whether to be impressed or shocked.”
    â€œYou learn to poker. I learn to swear. Which is more useful?”
    â€œRight now? Poker.”
    Madja looked uninterested.
    â€œOkay,” said Yake. “Maybe I’m wrong, but try this thought on anyway. This is a poker game—with two thousand sharpies, each of whom has brought his own deck and his own set of rules! Do you know what that means?”
    â€œYou are about to explain it, no?”
    â€œIt means that there are no rules. Only there are! But we get to make them up as we go! That’s how this game is played. Do you know what a good poker game needs?”
    â€œGood players?” asked Larson.
    â€œNah. A fish. A sucker. Somebody with money who’s willing to believe whatever you tell him—especially when you tell him that you couldn’t possibly have the fourth ace, because you want to keep him in the game as long as he has money to lose. That’s us—we’re the poor fish in this game! Humanity! We’re the suckers! As long as we’re playing by their rules, we have to lose. It’s their game! We can’t win unless we change the rules on them—”
    â€œYake,” Madja chose her words carefully. “I do not understand what you are saying. It sounds like you are suggesting that we break agreements here.”
    â€œNo—I’m not. I’m suggesting that we . . . reinterpret the boundaries of those agreements to include the possibility that we could win a hand here too.”
    Madja did not look convinced.
    â€œYou don’t understand, do you? This isn’t a game about playing by the rules. It’s a game about how cleverly you can cheat. If that’s the game, then cheating isn’t wrong, is it?”
    â€œIs interesting capitalist justification. Do they teach that at UCLA?”
    â€œUSC. And I didn’t go there. Never mind. I just want to make this game a little less interesting for us and a little more interesting for everybody else.”
    â€œI do not see it, Yake.”
    Larson leaned across the table and laid one hand on Madja’s. “Think of it this way, dear. Everything is justified in the class struggle against the imperialist war-mongers.”
    â€œIs not good comparison, Larson. I am not sure that these creatures are really imperialists. Besides, imperialists on Earth are at least human. Theory is that human being should know better . In the act of oppressing the class struggle of the workers, they renounce the noblest part of their humanity and deserve to meet their fate on the gallows. But Dragons and slugs and talking turnips might not be capable of knowing better. In that case, we cannot take advantage of them— or we would be the oppressor .”
    Kasahara paused in the act of reheating his sahki. “Are you sure you’re a real