“Th-thank you,” said Hewlitt.
“Stop talking and deal,” said Morredeth.
The next two hours passed very quickly until the arrival of the Hudlar nurse with the announcement that the evening meal was about to be served.
“If you wish to continue with your conversation and group activity,” it said, “you may eat together at the table outside the nurses’ station; otherwise the meal must be delivered to your individual beds. Well?”
Horrantor, Bowab, and Morredeth said “the table” in unison, and Hewlitt said the same a moment later.
“Are you sure, Patient Hewlitt?” asked the nurse. “You have limited other-species’ social experience, and seeing some of them at table for the first time may be psychologically disquieting. Or have you dined with off-wonders before now?”
“Well, no,” he replied, “but I don’t want to interrupt our conversation. I’m sure it will be all right, Nurse.”
“The trick,” said Horrantor, “is to look at nobody’s platter but your own.
But when the trays arrived he could not help sneaking a glance at the others’ platters, and decided that their food looked unappetizing but not revolting. It was the sight of Horrantor pushing enormous quantities of cooked vegetation-it had at least six times the body mass of an Earth-human and no doubt needed generous helpings-into an opening that he had not suspected was a mouth that he found most disconcerting. Morredeth was an herbivore also, and made a lot of noise while demolishing a selection of crisp, uncooked, and unidentifiable vegetables. He could not tell what Bowab was eating, although it had a strange, spicy smell, and he noticed that none of them was looking at his platter.
Was it simple good manners, he wondered, or was the sight of his synthetic steak and mushrooms having an even worse effect on them?
As soon as they were finished the other three returned their trays to the delivery float, so Hewlitt did the same. He did not know whether this was to save time and effort for the nursing staff or to clear the table quickly for another game. Either way he thought it was a good idea.
While Bowab, the overall winner of the previous game, was dealing he said, “You people are really devious and nasty and vicious as players. I wouldn’t call those last three games going easy on me. It isn’t fair. I’ve lost half of my toothpicks already.”
“Think of it as the involuntary payment of tuition fees,” said Bowab. “Besides, scremman isn’t a fair game, it is you who are fair game.
A furry centaur who makes jokes, Hewlitt thought. He laughed politely and said, “It is a most unfair game, so far as I am concerned, because winning depends not only on a player’s capacity for misdirection, concealment, and bluff, but on the accurate reading of an opponent’s expression. Under all that Kelgian and Duthan fur I don’t even know if there are expressions to read, and Horrantor’s head skin is about as expressive as Hudlar hide. Until I came to this place I spoke to off-worlders only by communicator. You people are so completely strange to me that I wouldn’t know a revealing expression if I saw one.
“Since coming here,” said Bowab, “we have seen you studying the library’s physiological classification system used to describe and identify Federation citizens, which includes basic information on their sociopsychological behavior. During the last game you were quick to discover my true discard pile. Either you are being too modest, Patient Hewlitt, or you are not as ignorant as you are leading us to believe.
“In which case,” said Horrantor, joining in, “you have learned that there is a psychological extension to scremman which operates during the breaks between play. You are indeed progressing well.”
“And should I also learn,” said Hewlitt, “not to be disarmed by compliments?”
“Of course,” said Bowab.
He laughed again and said, “Then if I admit to ignorance on any subject, it would not weaken my position because the admission would be treated as a possible misdirection aimed at concealing a strength. But what do you do with a person like Morredeth? Surely it must be at a disadvantage because it cannot tell a lie?”
“Kelgian misdirection,” said Horrantor, “involves concealing the intentions by not saying anything. We must try to discover what it is thinking by observing its fur movements. They are subtle and very difficult for a non-Kelgian to identify.”
Bowab looked at Horrantor and back to Hewlitt, making a growling sound that did not translate. He could not be sure, but he thought that the Duthan was trying to warn him about something.
“When I was a child,” Hewlitt went on, “I knew one furry creature well enough to guess at what it was thinking, or at least feeling. Sometimes I could make it change its mind and play when it wanted to sleep, and at other times it was able to make me do what it wanted. It was called a kitten, that is an immature cat, which is a nonsapient Earth-evolved pet that was technically the property of my parents although its behavior suggested that the opposite held true. It was a handsome female which, because of the peculiar mottled, brown color, was given the name of a sugary home-made candy Earth-people call Fudge. When it was angry or frightened its fur rose, which was an instinctive response from predomesticated times which made it look larger and more fearsome, but it soon learned more subtle methods of communication.
“If it wanted food,” he continued, “it would rub its head against my ankles or, if its needs were persistently ignored, it would unsheath its claws and try to climb up my legs. When it rolled from side to side on its back and punched at the air with its paws, that meant it wanted to play, and if it curled up on my lap with its eyes closed, limbs folded under its body and chin on its tail, it wanted to sleep. Sometimes it did not seem to know whether it wanted to sleep or play on my lap.
“But it was a very active and friendly entity,” said Hewlitt, and for a moment he could almost see it walking stiff-legged and tail ~ erect around the center of their table and pushing at the cards with a forepaw, “so it did not object when I made its mind up for it and began patting and stroking and tickling it, very gently, on its stomach and under its chin and around its ears. It liked that but pretended it didn’t by striking my hand with its paws, softly and with its claws sheathed. Most of all it liked me to stroke its back, especially when I began by gently pressing my fingertips on its head between the eyes and moving them slowly between its ears and along the spine to its tail, which by then was standing up straight. When I did that it would purr, which is the noise cats make when they are feeling pleasure…
“This conversation,” said Morredeth, its fur rippling in uneven waves, “is becoming very erotic and for me unpleasant. Stop it at once.
“It is bothering me, too,” Bowab agreed, “but pleasantly. Why are you talking so much about this furry pet of yours? In character or behavior did it resemble Morredeth or myself? Was it a special, nonsapient friend? What happened to it and where is the story leading?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to offend anyone,” said Hewlitt, “and I don’t know why I am talking about that cat now when I haven’t even thought about it for years. Maybe it is because it was my first nonhuman friend. It was very friendly and did not resemble anyone here, especially while you are playing scremman, but it was too adventurous for its own good. There was an accident when it ran too close to a large antigravity vehicle and was crushed by the outer edge of the repulsor field. It did not appear to be badly injured because it was still breathing and there was only a small amount of blood around its mouth and ears, but my parents said that there was no hope for it and they would send for the pet healer to have the poor thing put out of its misery. Before they could stop me I lifted it and took it to my room, and locked the door so nobody could take it away from me, then I nursed it in bed with me all night until…