Lyra

You wake up to the sound of shuffling cards. You look around to see him playing solitaire. Without looking up, he says, "I don’t seem to win this very often. I guess that’s because I’m playing such a clever opponent." He looks up to catch your smile, which he returns. "Do you play?"

"Only if you let me win."

"Oh, I like that kind of game. You get to win, but I get to feel smug about it!"

"I thought you didn’t like to be smug."

"Oh, no, I just don’t like to look smug. I love to be smug!"

"All right, it’s a deal."

He turns and pushes the bedside table between you and starts dividing the cards. "So it is. What will you beat me at?"

"These are strange cards. I don’t know how to play with them. That one has characters on both sides!"

"Well, this will be challenging. I’ll have to teach you and lose." He starts dealing.

"Good thing you Jedi love a challenge."

"So we do. This is Eight-point Trek. Oh, hmm." He notices you trying to gather the cards with one hand. He gathers them for you, splays them out while looking away, and takes your right hand, peeking out of the cast, to place them in. His touch is electric, but he pulls back quickly without looking at you and considers his own cards.

**

Ridan enters sick bay and asks the healer how his patients are. "Progress. Doujo can leave, of course, but he does seem to be helping Lyra. After a minor explosion, the air seems to have cleared."

From the inner room, voices become raised. "You said that was a ‘blin’!"

"No, it’s not a blin unless you also have a three. A green one."

"A green blin or a green three? Is there a chart of this, or would that interfere with your invention of the rules?"

"Are you implying that a Jedi would lie? There’s no chart because the values are calculated depending upon the number of players and the temperature."

"You just made that up!"

Ridan, standing in the doorway, clears his throat. "Who’s winning?" he asks.

"I am!" you huff.

Ridan looks more carefully at the numerous sloppy stacks of cards on the table and raises his eyebrows at Doujo. "Trek?"

"Eight-point Trek," you proudly respond.

Ridan presses his lips together to suppress a smile. "An interesting choice, my lady. You will be gentle on my apprentice during the scoring, won’t you?" You look at Doujo suspiciously, but he is carefully studying his cards. Ridan continues, "I’m sorry I can’t join in now. I always appreciate a good game of … Eight-point Trek. I’m glad to see you both doing better. I’ll leave you to your game, but perhaps when you have recovered from it you will be able to join me for dinner? Healer G’noa-Fan has agreed to release you both temporarily."

"Yes, Master" responds Doujo. You nod worriedly. When he’s gone you set down your cards.

"Scoring?"

"Oh, didn’t I mention that?" he asks innocently.

"I don’t think so," you say, leaning forward.

"Oh, well, it’s pretty simple, instead of carrying your points to the next round, you sort of spend them."

"On…?"

"Well, anything. It just clears the air for the next round, you see. You start fresh. Is it your turn?"

"I have no idea. Every once in a while I put a card on one of these heaps, and you tell me that’s good, that’s a "flim" or a "flam" or something. Are you sure this is a real game?"

"Of course it’s a real game!"

"Well, what’s the score?"

"Three and a half to nothing. And it is your turn."

You select one of the two-sided cards and release it calmly but defiantly past the edge of the table. It flutters down to the floor and lands somewhat under the bed with the purple 12 facing up. "I dare you to tell me that play has a value."

Doujo peers over at it and nods. "Very good landing, that’s Simp. You get 3/8 point and the round is over."

"So now we score."

"Hm, yes, I guess we do. You have 3 7/8 points, and now you have to spend them."

"Well, what will they buy? Pocket change? Gum?"

"No, no, the points don’t buy actual things. They’re only good for intangibles… like services."

"OK, you’re losing me. How about this – what did you buy the last time you played this game and won?"

"Oh, I always win."

"Answer the question."

"Sorry," he smiles, "a gentleman doesn’t tell."

"Ahhhh! The light dawns! Oh, I have to think about this." Doujo raises his eyebrows with pleased surprise. Finally, you think of what you want. "Mmmmm, yes. I have it." You push the table to the side and get out of bed. Something begins to beep.

"You do?"

You’re almost in his lap, and your face comes closer and closer to his. "Yes, I’ve thought of just exactly what I want you to do."

**

Two hours later, Healer G’noa-Fan brings you to the Jedi quarters and pushes the call button. The Healer taped off your IV needles, helped you keep your cast dry while you bathed, put you in a white dress, and insisted on your riding in a hideous air-chair, but here you are. Ridan answers the call and looks puzzled. "Is Doujo coming?" You all turn at the sound of heavy breathing as Doujo turns the corner, jogs down the hall and sweats wordlessly past his Master.

"How was your run?" you ask his back, but no reply comes except for the bathroom door closing and the shower starting up.

Ridan looks at you and smiles, "I take it you won?"