"No wonder you played like a unicorn, that one game with all the variations."
"Uh—yes."
Martin turned away, moved to the end of the bar.
"Welcome, all of you", he said. "I have a small announcement. Tlingel, a while back you had a number of observations concerning possible ecological and urban disasters and lesser dangers. Also, some ideas as to possible safeguards against some of them."
"I recall," said the unicorn.
"I passed them along to a friend of mine in Washington who used to be a member of my old chess club. I told him that the work was not entirely my own."
"I should hope so."
"He has since suggested that I turn whatever group was involved into a think tank. He will then see about paying something for its efforts."
"I didn't come here to save the world," Tlingel said.
"No, but you've been very helpful. And Grend tells me that the griffins, even if their vocabulary is a bit limited, know almost all that there is to know about ecology."
"That is probably true."
"Since they have inherited a part of the Earth, it would be to their benefit as well to help preserve the place. Inasmuch as this many of us are already here, I can save myself some travel and suggest right now that we find a meeting place—say here, once a month—and that you let me have your unique viewpoints. You must know more about how species become extinct than anyone else in the business."
"Of course," said Grend, waving his mug, "but we really should ask the yeti, also. I'll do it, if you like. Is that stuff coming out of the big box music?"
"Yes."
"I like it. If we do this think-tank, you'll make enough to keep this place going?"
"I'll buy the whole town."
Grend conversed in quick gutturals with the griffins, who shrieked back at him.
"You've got a think tank," he said, "and they want more beer."
Martin turned toward Tlingel.
"They were your observations. What do you think?"
"It may be amusing," said the unicorn, "to stop by occasionally." Then, "So much for saving the world. Did you say you wanted another game?"
"I've nothing to lose."
Grend took over the tending of the bar while Tlingel and Martin returned to the table.
He beat the unicorn in thirty-one moves and touched the extended horn.
The piano keys went up and down. Tiny sphinxes buzzed about the bar, drinking the spillage.
The game itself. Okay. It was Halprin v. Pillsbury in Munich, in 1901. Pillsbury was the stronger player. He'd beaten a number of very good players and had only Halprin, a weaker player, left to face. But two other players, running very close to Pillsbury for first prize, decided to teach him a lesson. The night before the game they got together with Halprin and coached him, teaching him everything they had learned concerning Pillsbury's style. The following day, Pillsbury faced a much better-prepared Halprin than he had anticipated playing. He realized this almost too late. The others chuckled and felt smug. But Pillsbury surprised them. Even caught off guard initially, he managed a draw. After all, he was very good. Martin is playing Halprin's game here, and Tlingel Pillsbury's. Except that Martin isn't really weak. He was just nervous the first time around. Who wouldn't be?