He watched the board for a time, felt his eyelids drooping, closethem and drowsed. It may only have been for a few minutes. He wasnever certain afterward.
Something aroused him. He did not know what. He blinked severaltimes and closed his eyes again. Then he reopened them hurriedly.
In his nodded position, eyes directed downward, his gaze was fixedupon an enormous pair of hairy, unshod feet—the largest pair of feetthat he had ever beheld. They stood unmoving before him, pointedtoward his right.
Slowly—very slowly—he raised his eyes. Not very far, as it turnedout. The creature was only about four and a half feet in height. Asit was looking at the chessboard rather than at him, he took theopportunity to study it.
It was unclothed but very hairy, with a dark brown pelt, obviouslymasculine, possessed of a low brow ridges, deep-set eyes that matchedits hair, heavy shoulders, five-fingered hands that sported opposingthumbs.
It turned suddenly and regarded him, flashing a large number ofshining teeth.
"White's Pawn should take the Pawn," it said in a soft, nasalvoice.
"Huh? Come on," Martin said. "Bishop takes Knight."
"You want to give me Black and play it that way? I'll walk allover you."
"Martin glanced again at its feet.
"... Or give me White and let me take that Pawn. I'll still doit."
"Take White," Martin said, straightening. "Let's see if you knowwhat you're talking about." He reached for his pack. "Have a beer?"
"What's a beer?"
"A recreational aid. Wait a minute."
Before they had finished the six-pack, the sasquatch—whose name,he had learned, was Grend—had finished Martin. Grend had quicklyentered a ferocious midgame, backed him into a position of dwindling