Flere-Imsaho replied — with a trace of weariness Gurgeh suspected only he could detect — that Gurgeh was not its master, and that it supposed he thought more logically than it did when he was playing games, but that anyway it knew very little about Azad.
They all found this most amusing.
Hamin stood then and suggested that his stomach, with over two and a half centuries of experience behind it, could tell it was approaching time for dinner better than any servant's clock. People laughed, and gradually began to depart the long balcony. Hamin escorted Gurgeh to his room personally and told him a servant would let him know when the meal was to be served.
"I wish I knew why they invited you here," Flere-Imsaho said, quickly unpacking Gurgeh's few cases while the man looked out of the window at the still trees and the calm sea.
"Perhaps they want to recruit me for the Empire. What do you think, drone? Would I make a good general?"
"Don't be facetious, Jernau Gurgeh." The drone switched to Marain. "And not to forget, random domran, here bugged are we, nonsense wonsense."
Gurgeh looked concerned and said in Eächic, "Heavens, drone; are you developing a speech impediment?"
"Gurgeh …" the drone hissed, setting out some clothes the Empire deemed suitable to be worn when eating.
Gurgeh turned away, smiling. "Maybe they just want to kill me."
"I wonder if they want any help."
Gurgeh laughed and came over to the bed where the drone had laid out the formal clothing. "It'll be all right."
"So you say. But we haven't even got the protection of the module here, let alone anything else. But … let's not worry about it."
Gurgeh picked up a couple of the robe-pieces and tried them against his body, holding them under his chin and looking down. "I'm not worried anyway," he said.
The drone shouted at him in exasperation. "Oh Jernau Gurgeh! How many times do I have to tell you? You cannot wear red and green together like that!"
"You like music, Mr Gurgeh?" Hamin asked, leaning over to the man.
Gurgeh nodded. "Well, a little does no harm."
Hamin sat back, apparently satisfied with this answer. They had climbed to the broad roof-garden after dinner, which had been a long, complicated and very filling affair during which naked females had danced in the centre of the room and — if Gurgeh's rings were to be believed — nobody had tried to interfere with his food. It was dusk now, and the party was outside in the warm evening air, listening to the wailing music produced by a group of apex musicians. Slender gantries led from the garden into the tall, graceful trees.
Gurgeh sat at a small table with Hamin and Olos. Flere-Imsaho sat near his feet. Lamps shone in the trees around them; the roof-garden was its own island of light in the night, surrounded by the cries of birds and animals, calling out as though in answer to the music.
"I wonder, Mr Gurgeh," Hamin said, sipping his drink and lighting a long, small-bowled pipe. "Did you find any of our dancing girls attractive?" He pulled on the long-stemmed pipe, then, with the smoke wreathing around his bald head, went on, "I only ask because one of them — she with the silver streak in her hair, remember? — did express rather an interest in you. I'm sorry… I hope I'm not shocking you, Mr Gurgeh, am I?"
"Not in the least."
"Well, I just wanted to say you're amongst friends here, yes? You've more than proved yourself in the game, and this is a very private place, outside the gaze of the press and the common people, who of course have to depend on certain hard and fast rules… whereas we do not, not here. You catch my drift? You may relax in confidence."
"I'm most grateful. I shall certainly try to relax; but I was told before I came here that I would be found ugly, even disfigured, by your people. Your kindness overwhelms me, but I would prefer not to inflict myself on somebody who might not be available through choice alone."
"Too modest, again, Jernau Gurgeh," Olos smiled.
Hamin nodded, puffing on his pipe. "You know, Mr Gurgeh, I have heard that in your «Culture» you have no laws. I am sure this is an exaggeration, but there must be a grain of truth in the assertion, and I would guess you must find the number and strictness of our laws… to be a great difference between your society and ours.
"Here we have many rules, and try to live according to the laws of God, Game and Empire. But one of the advantages of having laws is the pleasure one may take in breaking them. We here are not children, Mr Gurgeh." Hamin waved the pipe-stem round the tables of people. "Rules and laws exist only because we take pleasure in doing what they forbid, but as long as most of the people obey such proscriptions most of the time, they have done their job; blind obedience would imply we are — ha!" — Hamin chuckled and pointed at the drone with the pipe "no more than robots!"
Flere-Imsaho buzzed a little louder, but only momentarily.
There was silence. Gurgeh drank from his glass.
Olos and Hamin exchanged looks. "Jernau Gurgeh," Olos said at last, rolling his glass round in his hands. "Let's be frank. You're an embarrassment to us. You've done very much better than we expected; we did not think we could be so easily fooled, but somehow you did it. I congratulate you on whatever ruse it was you used, whether it centred on your drug-glands, your machine there, or simply many more years playing Azad than you admitted to. You have bettered us, and we're impressed. I am only sorry that innocent people, such as those bystanders who were shot instead of you, and Lo Prinest Bermoiya, had to be hurt. As you have no doubt guessed, we would like you to go no further in the game. Now, the Imperial Office has nothing to do with the Games Bureau, so there is little we can do directly. We do have a suggestion though."
"What's that?" Gurgeh sipped his drink.
"As I've been saying" — Hamin pointed the stem of the pipe at Gurgeh — "we have many laws. We therefore have many crimes. Some of these are of a sexual nature, yes?" Gurgeh looked down at his drink. "I need hardly point out," Hamin continued, "that the physiology of our race makes us… unusual, one might almost say gifted, in that respect. Also, in our society, it is possible to control people. It is possible to make somebody, or even several people, do things they might not want to do. We can offer you, here, the sort of experience which by your own admission would be impossible on your own world." The old apex leant closer, dropping his voice. "Can you imagine what it might be like to have several females, and males — even apices, if you like — who will do your every bidding?" Hamin knocked his pipe out on the table leg; the ash drifted over the humming bulk of Flere-Imsaho. The rector of Candsev College smiled in a conspiratorial way and sat back, re-packing his pipe from a small pouch.
Olos leant forward. "This whole island is yours for as long as you want it, Jernau Gurgeh. You may have as many people of whatever sexual mix as you like, for as long as you desire."
"But I pull out of the game."
"You retire, yes," Olos said.
Hamin nodded. "There are precedents."
"The whole island?" Gurgeh made a show of looking around the gently lit roof-garden. A troupe of dancers appeared; the lithe, skimpily-dressed men, women and apices made their way up some steps to a small stage raised behind the musicians.
"Everything." Olos said. "The island, house, servants, dancers; everything and everyone."
Gurgeh nodded but didn't say anything.
Hamin relit his pipe. "Even the band," he said, coughing. He waved at the musicians. "What do you think of their instruments, Mr Gurgeh? Do they not sound sweet?"