Gurgeh sensed the people around him grow a little quieter. Mawhrin-Skel's aura fields switched to a mixture of red and brown; humorous pleasure, and displeasure, together; a contrary signal close to a direct insult.

"Ignore this machine," Gurgeh told the young man, acknowledging his nod. "It likes to annoy people." He pulled his chair in, adjusted his old, unfashionably loose and wide-sleeved jacket. "I'm Jernau Gurgeh. And you?"

"Stemli Fors," the young man said, gulping a little.

"Pleased to meet you. Now; what colour are you taking?"

"Aah… green."

"Fine." Gurgeh sat back. He paused, then waved at the board. "Well, after you."

The young man called Stemli Fors made his first move. Gurgeh sat forward to make his, and the drone Mawhrin-Skel settled on his shoulder, humming to itself. Gurgeh tapped the machine's casing with one finger, and it floated off a little way. For the rest of the game it mimicked the snicking sound the point-hinged pyramids made as they were clicked over.

Gurgeh beat the young man easily. He even finessed the finish a little, taking advantage of Fors's confusion to produce a pretty pattern at the end, sweeping one piece round four diagonals in a machine-gun clatter of rotating pyramids, drawing the outline of a square across the board, in red, like a wound. Several people clapped; others muttered appreciatively. Gurgeh thanked the young man and stood up.

"Cheap trick," Mawhrin-Skel said, for all to hear. "The kid was easy meat. You're losing your touch." Its field flashed bright red, and it bounced through the air, over people's heads and away.