Robot Adept Read Online Free PDF Page B

put BAKING in the left center, or 9K square.   He quickly filled in the other end of the K row with BICYCLE RACING so that she would not have a horizontal line. He was beginning to enjoy this; he had thought they would not play the game until the grids decided what it would be, but realized that they were already in it. This was the aspect of strategy, where the game could be virtually won or lost, depending on the player’s cleverness in choosing and placing.   Agape put COOKING in the lower right corner.
    Bane put SHOT PUT in the lower left.
    She put SOAP BUBBLES in the upper right square, the final one. The grid was complete.
    He chose the numbers, though there did not seem to be much difference. Then he wrestled with the decision over which column to choose. If he took the first, he had two chances to win one of his sports: Ball-throwing or Shot-putting. But she would anticipate that, so take the middle row, winning her choice of Baking. So he should take one of the other columns . . . where the odds were two to one against him. Except that if she figured him to take the first column, so she chose the middle row, he obviously should take the third column, putting them in Bicycle Racing. So the odds weren’t really against him. Unless she realized this, so took one of the other rows, so as to win. So he should—
    He shook his head. He was getting confused! There was no way to be sure of victory; it was an endless maze of suppositions.
    He decided to go with the odds. He touched Column 9.
    This time she had not chosen before him, for the chosen box did not illuminate. His row highlighted; that was all.
    At last she chose. The 9K square lighted, then expanded to fill the full screen. She had won it after all: they would play the game of Baking.
    “Do you concede?” she asked.
    It was only part of the ritual, but he was tempted.   What did he know of baking? His mother, the Lady Blue, had always handled that. But he didn’t like quitting, even when it was only a game. Even when it really didn’t matter who won or lost. “Nay.”
    “Will you accept a draw?”
    That was a generous offer! He knew he should take it, but he decided to take his loss like a man. “Nay.”
    She sighed. “I thought to bluff you,” she admitted. “I know nothing of baking.”
    “Then methinks we both should learn,” he said. “The loser must eat the winner’s effort.”
    “But you don’t even need to eat,” she reminded him.
    “Aye, but I can. Mayhap I will not have to.” She looked at her screen. “Oh, there is a list of baking choices. What do we want?”
    “Something simple,” he pleaded. “Something we ne’er can mess up too much.”
    “I agree.” She addressed the console. “What is simple, and tastes all right if poorly made?” BROWNIES, the screen replied.
    Agape looked at Bane. “Do you know what brownies are?”
    “Nay, if they be not a species o’ the elves.”
    “Neither do I. So we’re even. Let’s do it.”
    “Aye.”
    There was a message on the screen: ADJOURN TO KITCHEN ANNEX, BOOTH 15.
    They had committed themselves. They made their way to the kitchen annex.
    The booth was ready for them. Two chairs were at consoles, their screens lighted.
    Agape took one seat. Bane the other. Both consoles faced the wall. Bane’s screen said: TOUCH WHEN READY TO PROCEED.
    He reached out and touched Agape on the shoulder.
    “It means the screen!” she exclaimed. But she leaned over and kissed him.
    He had known that. Satisfied, he touched the screen.   Nothing happened. “Thou hast to touch thine too,” he reminded her.
    “There’s someone watching us,” she murmured. “You can see him in the reflection of the wall.”
    He looked. It was a middle-aged serf, apparently one of the caretakers or troubleshooters of this section. He ran it through his brain’s storage bank, and culled a positive reference. The serf was legitimate. “He be an employee, likely assigned to watch lest some minion o’ a Citizen