DIPLOMACY

Written by Palantean Writer.

Synopsis: Dee the rat holds a Diplomacy game with five friends plus a guest named Sammi.

Seven furs milled significantly around in the room, kicking their tails, talking and killing time. A rat considered the milling 'significant' because they were waiting for a game of Diplomacy to start, and anticipation of Diplomacy had that effect on a fur. Dee looked around at them all as they sipped drinks and chatted, the conversation so far still relatively honest and inconsequential because the lots hadn't been drawn and nobody had much idea yet who to trust, who to reaffirm bonds with and who to withdraw from and suspect.

Bar and Foo, both perk-eared and hungrily aware of their surroundings, stood with their arms sometimes crossed, but sometimes unfolded them to wave a hoof about in demonstration of this point or that fact. Zot sat on the couch with her knees together in old-fashioned ladylike style and her long-haired tail by her thigh, and sipped delicately at her fruit juice - partly out of habit, partly because as a long-snouted anteater there was no other way for her to drink. She quietly watched everybody else but didn't join in. Fum seemed caught between the impulse to eye up Zot, Quux and of course, Dee herself for seductive signals, and the boys in the anticipation of the coming opportunities for revenge. Gender reassignment-operee Quux stood in earnest conversation with Sammi, who perched on the seat of the couch.

And Sammi himself? The wildcard, a guest. Dee found herself weighing up what little information she had about the mouse to try and understand how he'd play.

They'd all stewed long enough. In any case, Dee always liked to get the measure of a guest and she'd watched Sammi long enough. Now, she wanted to see him at the table so she rapped on the edge of her glass with the knuckle of one finger. The others fell silent and turned enquiring ears and brows in her direction. "Okay everyone," she announced, "I'd like to welcome Sammi to our games group." The group buzzed briefly with greetings, some polite, some indifferent.

She looked directly at him. "Sammi, I think you're already aware that we play the variation Pure Diplomacy."

Sammi's eyes danced brightly and he nodded.

"You haven't played any kind of Diplomacy before, is that right?" she asked, although she herself already knew the answer. Her question was more for the others' benefit.

He shook his head. "Not before," he answered in a fairly thick Nigerian accent.

She nodded and adjusted her visor. "Then Pure Diplomacy's a good start, so those are the rules that'll apply."

"Such as they are," smiled Quux, offering Sammi a light smile that might have been a friendly elbow-nudge if they'd known each other better.

Sammi smiled a slightly twitchy - Dee read this as nervous - smile back.

For the purposes of the game Dee found herself watching the small interaction with interest. She wondered whether Quux was using the tactic of seduction as an enforceable side contract. Is that smile nervous because he's about to play his first game, or because he fancies Quux? she wondered. Or is he naturally a nervous fur?

That was something Dee loved about Diplomacy: the game often began before a player noticed. Often, she could note one little thing - an unexpected word, a too-long stare or a smile, and there, the starting line was already behind her.

The lots were drawn, and the places settled.

The first diplomatic phase began.

xXx

Dee could have laughed, even though she understood what she was thinking down to her bones. The levels on which these games can be played!

She thought so because the first diplomatic negotiation directed at her had just been opened. Russia had winked at her.

All right you dirty old cat, if you're willing to show your loyalties that quickly. She answered with a tilt of her head that let her blue hair flop seductively over from one side to the other, a slight pulling-open of the front of her khaki shirt and a tell-tale tilt of her hips.

What she didn't show was her thought, I'd better watch your interactions with Quux. But are you going to betray either of us? What's your opinion of Zot right now? Are you seeing her as honourarily male for the purpose of this game, or are you going to act out of hope that she'll offer sex as a negotiation tool?

Dee felt the usual tug of instinct to connect with everybody in the room, but these things could only be done with one, or a few, at a time. At a pinch she honed in on Switzerland with the intention of talking verbally to France in a moment. Zot, as per usual, seemed content to the point of indifference with her country. I wonder if you'll ever change, thought Dee, and wondered how good Zot was at concealing her thoughts.

Of course. Now, she answered herself. If the recent attempt on Zot's life wouldn't put her on guard, nothing would. Then Dee realised the fallacy of the thought, shook her head and went to talk with Switzerland, who by lucky chance stood by the door through which England and Turkey had disappeared to negotiate their plans together. A bit of eavesdropping always helped grease the wheels.

Germany and France

"Zot," said Germany as she came within the anteater's line of sight, her tone loaded with welcome and just-about detectable fakeness. Anything to drum a reaction out of France.

"Dee," France replied with plastic honey of her own. An expectant silence grew between them and Dee recognised that Zot, with her trademark charisma, had decided to leave Dee hanging. If any fur was unafraid of silences it was Zot. The anteater blinked at her and flicked her narrow tongue, entirely unhurried.

Being able to be silent in a conversation is probably the most important thing I've ever learned from you, thought Dee as she studied Zot and her long, silvered face. But I wish so much that you had the enthusiasm to play the game properly. Imagine what you could do with your silence then?

The rat kept the conversation going with more-or-less brute force: "Any particular alliances, yet?"

Zot smiled sedately. "Fum's always a good bet."

She paused, although Dee got the impression that Zot hadn't said everything on her mind. Of course Fum was a good bet - anybody so easily-seduced and vengeful, and (as on this occasion) with one extra province to start with, made a fantastic ally.

"Are you going to give our guest a trial run?" Dee prompted, although she already suspected Zot was going to keep her cards close to her chest about who else she intended to ally with.

Zot glanced over to the mouse. "I... think I might give him a try," she said, all cultured nonchalance.

"Hmm," Dee grunted by way of answer. She waited just a moment to see whether Zot wanted to ask her anything in return but she didn't. Not so much as a raised eyebrow. "Then I'll go and mingle," she said at length and turned to walk away. The 'I'm leaving so you won't be able to talk to me any more' ploy similarly brought in nothing, so she left France, her retreat unchallenged.

I wonder whether she'll really team up with Sammi in any way. Even if she does, I have big doubts she'll show him any loyalty.

She ignored the little flash in her chest, the one that said, poor Sammi. Help him. An irrationally kind response to that feeling could be the death of a Diplomacy player.

England and Turkey

The two equines turned almost automatically to the door; their hoofbeats rang on the floor-tiles as they left the room. Everyfur (well, everyfur except for Sammi) knew the likelihood of these two sneaking off together. It'd almost become an in-joke for the Bayesian Nakama. For Foo and Bar it was a combination that worked well, and the chemistry between them went far beyond the obvious phenomenon of species similarity.

Put more simply, because Foo and Bar were a horse and a donkey, they worked well as a team. They subconsciously felt that because they were similar, they thought the same way so could trust each other. Each was aware of this subconscious intuition and the flaw of believing it at muzzle value, but between them they had consented to use it. But it went beyond that: they bonded well, their personalities fitted like two pieces of a puzzle and because of that, they rarely acted as anything other than a unit.

This didn't change the dynamics of Diplomacy, however: each could still benefit from betraying the other. It just... never happened, and the pony and donkey understood that neither would never go back on the partnership.

Perhaps it is down to species similarity after all, thought Bar as he passed from the light of the room to the gloomier hallway. Maybe in-group bias has more mileage than I've realised. He began to wonder how in-group bias could be introduced, used or discouraged in AI programs.

"How's the AI going?" asked Foo, his ears signalling quiet interest and his glance a quick, intelligent flicker.

Bar whistled through his teeth as he thought about his answer, and secretly felt glad that Foo's thought processes ran so close to his. "Not badly, considering. You know how it is with programming AI - so many different directions to try, and all of them fascinating. And all of them need a lot of work to be of any significant use in this game. It's taken a bit of a back seat because of work. The AI's only for Diplomacy, after all. I need a wage more than I need to win this.

"Still," he concluded, swinging around the doorway and switching on the light, "it'd be good to have it finished. I wonder what Dee would make of it?"

Ah, Dee and her kooky little sexual favours. A blowjob for finding the error in a bit of programming script, an hour's uninhibited use of her for a minor technical invention or improvement. Specialist sexual favours of almost any kind for solving problems relating to world poverty, protecting the environment, improving space travel. If it helped thousands and thousands of furs around the world, it earned its inventor a day of his - or her - most fervent wishes.

Bar shivered at the thought of it. He'd earned a few 'prizes' from Dee in the past, not least the opportunity to spend a day tying, untying and re-tying her again using bondage skills he'd practised in secret for months.

She hadn't commissioned an AI for use in Diplomacy, but any Artificial Intelligence that could work in a game of Diplomacy would most certainly have uses elsewhere. Lie detection? Cool, purely self-interested backstabbing by a computer's powerful mind rather than by some flawed, biased fur's? A realistic consideration of probability combined with self-interest? All together, it would be dynamite!

If only the programming of such a sophisticated AI wasn't so painfully complicated.

"If Sammi stays, I wonder if we'll have a counter-team on our hands," Foo mused.

Bar grinned at him. "Nah. We're two in a million, Foo. It'll take more than a couple of rodents to beat us."

"Even Dee?"

He smiled an old-friend smile at the pony and decided be brazen for the sake of their friendship. "Even Dee. She didn't manage to break us up that time, did she?"

On one occasion Dee tried to split this pair of conspirators, to divide and conquer with some literally below the belt efforts. Even an offer of a quickie hadn't done it. It'd taken a mighty dose of willpower for Bar, but that was one little achievement of which he was proud.

"Right then," Foo said, flicking his coarse-haired tail out of the way to sit comfortably down on a plastic chair. "Where are we going to start? With our leonine friend?"

"Mm hmm," Bar answered, the sincerity of his agreement more evident in his tone than his words. Or lack of them. "I'd be surprised if we don't hear him next door soon." He glanced at the wall as if to look through it. Foo did the same, although there was hardly any sense in either of them doing so because it was completely opaque.

Just another little in-group action, more valuable for being a shared activity than for its utility.

"Who d'you reckon it'll be?" Foo asked.

"Well, let's face it. Usually it's Dee."

"Hmm," agreed Foo, his ears twitching in acknowledgement. Then he rubbed at his chin. "Now, let's see. If it is her, then she'll influence him to..." he huffed a big, equine breath through his nostrils. "I think she'll be protective of Sammi, to be honest. Zot'll obviously be all right - Fum's not going to have a go at her."

Bar nodded, feeling the familiar weight of his long ears bob a second later. "I agree with you over Sammi. She won't attack him directly and Fum's so aggressive she'd probably see letting him fight Sammi unchecked as a direct enough attack."

"So what should we do with Sammi, then?" Foo asked, although his eyes already shone with intent.

"Be my guest," Bar answered, smiling and flicking his tail into another position. The tuft came to rest and hung by his knee.

"Play nice with him to start with, see how aggressive he is. Just play him at the same level."

Bar nodded and leaned back on the bed, where he'd settled. "Which brings us to, who's going to approach Sammi? Or who's Sammi going to approach?"

Foo narrowed his eyes and craned his neck as if to look out the door. "Would've been good to see - it would have meant we didn't have to speculate. Flip side of coming in here," he said and shrugged.

Bar nodded and speculated anyway. "Dee'll almost definitely approach him."

"Although, will she consider talking to him at the opening of this game enough, so not approach him again?" put in Foo.

Bar groaned and huffed a small laugh. "I still think she will."

Foo shrugged and made a small whinnying sound. "Fair enough."

"And she'll pledge some kind of loyalty to him. D'you think she'll stick with it, though?" he asked, eyeing Foo.

Foo held his breath and gazed into space. "About fifty-fifty," he admitted.

Which brought them to the end of that bit of speculation, given the time they had available. Bar checked his watch. Still twenty-three minutes to go.

Two furs walked past the door. Bar and Foo both twitched their ears in the direction of the wall, expecting to hear the pair in the next room. But they heard nothing, not even a door swinging open or shut. Either the door had been open and two furs were now able to overhear them, or they'd decided to move on to another room.

Bar decided it was probably the latter, and looked down at one hoof and inspected it for a moment. Bar wasn't the most intuitive of furs, so he couldn't say why he felt the need to look, but after a few seconds he felt it right to speak what was on his mind. "What are you going to do with Zot?" And then he looked up again.

Foo's eyes dulled, and Bar wondered for a moment whether he'd gone too far just by asking. "I'll talk to her after this," he said, the words a little hesitant.

They found themselves silent for minute and in the uncomfortable heat of their silence, Bar struggled to think of a replacement subject. A prediction on Fum and management strategy for him? Ways to exploit Quux? Any approach they should make to Sammi?

Foo's voice cut clearly across his thoughts and Bar felt instantly grateful. "I think... I think neither of us could bring ourselves to attack each other." he looked at the ground and rubbed his thumb against the rest of his hoof as he spoke. Bar didn't feel any better for bringing the subject up. "But maybe that's just me. I don't want to attack her."

Bar nodded. The message was clear: the 'I' was really a 'we'. Bar was not to attack Zot, however obliquely. For Bar's part, he thought Zot was resilient enough to weather an attack, and she'd hardly have agreed to take part in the game if she couldn't take the odd attack. After all, her inscrutability meant many trusted the anteater only to find themselves betrayed by her. That tended to earn her some very angry enemies. She was used to it.

But Bar's Diplomatic relationship - and friendship - with Foo depended on his leaving Zot alone.

So that was how it would be.

Germany and Switzerland

Dee watched Switzerland as the goat coolly batted back and forth with Russia. Quux held all the cards in that Diplomacy relationship and she knew it. The rat took a moment to file away the idea that possibly, Russia might be self-deluded over the power he had over the exchange. Any active country and yes, he had his cards to play and there were aces among them. But with Switzerland?

Hmm.

Dee checked her watch: only four minutes had passed so she still had time, for now at least. She milled about and sipped her drink, partly to avoid looking too eager, partly to wait until Switzerland was free to speak with and partly for any other player to approach her if he or she wanted.

Soon enough Russia went his own way. Dee saw the twist in his body right before he turned in her direction so deflected him from catching her up in a conversation by pretending to write on her slip of paper, her brow furrowed in false concentration.

It might not have worked, but on this occasion it did. Perhaps because Zot was behind her and most likely looked freer to converse than she herself did.

Quux looked easy and unhurried. She gazed into space and flicked her hair just before she realised Dee was approaching. Dee took in the expression on Quux's attractively skewbald face before opening a conversation.

"It's a shame Baz, Bletch and Bongo aren't here," she said and from a certain perspective, she was telling the truth. Although really, she thought that Baz' sensors and Bletch's brain-stimulating activities would have made Sammi's first game even harder than it already was. Quux, on the other hand, had the luxury of watching the game from the sidelines so presumably, all she really wanted was to see an entertaining game. And Baz's tecniques, which amounted almost to mind-reading, made for a confusing if interesting game.

But then, perhaps Dee was wrong. Perhaps Switzerland's loyalties lay more with Sammi than her own entertainment.

"Yes," Quux answered, her tone flat and unfeeling. "But I think Sammi would be grateful if he knew about them."

Bingo, thought Dee, and wondered what proportion of the population enjoyed being wrong as much as she did.

Dee felt like saying, 'You really seem to be concerned about him', especially given the conversation they appeared to have been having earlier. But Quux's mind didn't quite work the same way as Dee's, or anybody else's in the room for that matter. So she searched for something else to say, something that wouldn't sound too astute. At a pinch she went with, "I'd have given anything to watch any of those three play against Fum."

Where any other fur might have laughed, Quux simply nodded, honest but not unfriendly. "It would have been entertaining," she agreed. "But I like the group we have today. It's a nice group for a beginner to enter. Just the one really aggressive player-" Quux could only mean Fum "-and the rest of us are average enough not to drown out Sammi. Although I expect he'll be outed soon enough."

Dee decided to get straight to the point. "So are you allying with Fum for Fum's benefit or for Sammi's?"

"Sammi's."

Dee stifled a laugh at Quux's candidness. "And are you going to let Sammi know that?"

"I haven't decided yet." Then she gazed up at the light set in the centre of the ceiling and rubbed at her throat, deep in thought. "Though probably not."

Germany and Russia

For all of Fum's superficial indifference, his ships-passing-in-the-night, hunting-wolf approach to sex, Dee could always sense the excitable agitation underneath. And at today's Diplomacy game, Fum was like a cub in a butcher's shop.

Fum led Dee to an adjoining room to make their negotiations, although Dee kept a close mind on the balance of power between them as she watched the brown tuft of his tail sway back and forth.

Funny how their respective attitudes to the game differed, and what it brought to their interactions.

Foo and Bar's voices could be heard in one room so, not meaning to eavesdrop on this occasion - or be seen to be doing so by either them or Fum - she nudged the lion on a couple more rooms. It didn't seem to occur to Fum why she didn't want to take the first room they came to, and on this occasion she couldn't be bothered to point the reason out.

The room was grey and, to a fur with no memories to link to the place, grim. But the greyness and utility here was full of life and remembered moments, and Dee felt all the happier for being here. The walls might as well have been stuck with photographs.

"So," she asked, sitting readily on the edge of the lower of the two bunk beds. The edge of the support for the bed dug into the backs of her thighs. "Where are we starting, Fum?"

Fum answered with a knowing smirk, but Dee wasn't having any of it yet.

Let's get an easy one out of the way first. We'll leave the more controversial players until later.

"Foo?" she prompted.

Controversial players, in this case, meant the females. Whatever Fum wanted from Dee now, he'd feel in conflict if she asked him to ally against a female, so she started by asking about the males. It crossed her mind that he might not want to attack Foo yet, given the recent assassination attempt that'd gone so horribly wrong, but Foo was a sensible enough character that she thought Fum'd think that-

"Foo? He can go to hell - if you want him to."

A pretty speech. Delivered with such a heavy dose of intimacy as well.

"Interesting choice of words for an atheist," she teased.

"Yes," he agreed, then stalled for time by smiling and reaching forward to caress Dee's knee. A strange thing to do, given that it was prosthetic and as far as Dee was aware, Fum didn't have a taste for that kind of thing. "Then I'll just have to see how close to hell I can send him."

Dee leaned forward so that he, sitting opposite her, could see down her top. "I'd say he's been pretty close already, lately."

Fum registered this, and then leaned back against the far wall, which had a small shelf on it. "Well, I'll look after him, then." He spread his arms along it for support, and in his supine position Dee could see a bulge in his trousers.

Thankfully, Fum had never been too much part of the 'I can only feel turned on when you reassure me' brigade, so his display didn't manipulate Dee into pandering to him. "There's no need to actually protect him. Do what you want, Fum. I think that means take him out of the game for both of us, but let's not be too brutal with him."

Not that Fum would physically threaten Foo, but a little gender-stereotypical concern never did any harm. Dee shook her head slightly to make her fringe fall over one eye. Don't forget the reward you get for doing as I say, Fum.

"Hmm," Fum replied distractedly, and glanced at Dee's khaki-covered crotch. He would, of course, expect a pay-off for his lenience.

After a few moments of silence, of the temperature rising in the room, Dee took the negotiations forward. Fum never would have done so on his own.

"Are we thinking along similar lines for Bar?" she asked. By which, she meant: I also want you to take Bar out of the game, but I'm going to pretend I'm not telling you I want you to because you're more likely to comply if you thought it was your idea.

"I'll get rid of him too, if you like?" he answered.

Oh, Fum.

Fum said nothing about the fact that Foo and Bar had gone away to talk by themselves, which very strongly suggested they'd ally, which could make offing both of them more difficult for Fum. But then, Dee would have been surprised if any of that had occurred to the lion, even if that was his side of a bargain with Dee he wanted very much to keep.

He leaned forward then and got up so that he could sit beside her. With the flawless speed of a male who didn't get quite as much sex as he wanted but still had the confidence to request it, he wound his arms around her. His hands came to rest unerringly on one of her breasts and the curve of her hip.

Dee looked down at this state of affairs. "We seem to be in quite a situation," she commented.

"Mmm yes, we do," he mumbled and took a mouthful of rat ear and ring piercings. Their whiskers mingled, the feeling spangly on the side of Dee's muzzle.

Dee twisted herself towards him and ruffled her fingers into his mane. "And what about our little newcomer?" she asked, her voice lucid and normal considering the heat of the moment.

"He's already out," Fum rumbled, his arms slipping further around her, his grip tightening on her hip. "Trust me, he'll be gone in no time."

That's just a bit too far. Dee put her hands on his to slow him down, just for a moment. However advantageous his dupability was to her, sometimes she regretted Fum's lack of concern for others' feelings. Sammi would survive - of course he would - but it'd be a shame for him to be sent out of play from his first game with Fum on his heels.

"Hmm," she muttered, leaning back so that he could fumble with the buttons running down her top. She took her visor off, put it out of harm's way and shook her blue hair free. The shaking made her piercings jingle. "Let's leave him in the game just a little while, eh Fum?"

Fum's tongue found her cleavage.

"Fum?"

"Mm hmm," he agreed as he nuzzled his way to her nipple. Dee suspected he didn't know or care what he was agreeing to.

"Fum!" she snapped, and then realised she'd pulled him up by the back of the mane.

They locked eyes for a moment, her with irritation and he with a mixture of disappointment, outrage and desperation to do whatever would make her comply again. "Let Sammi stay in the game," he mumbled.

Dee let go of his mane and watched the ruffled patch as he feasted on her tits. It never ceased to amaze her what a female could get away with, with Fum. And what a male couldn't get away with.

Dee had planned ahead for this moment. It was a sad fact of life that a male thought he could have sex twice, before he'd had sex once. So the dilemma: let Fum have his way early, or make him wait?

Early meant that he'd agree to anything she wanted now, but may not uphold his side of the bargain later. But then again, securing 'the goods' for himself now meant he knew there was a good chance she would deliver next time. And it meant that Fum's allegiance to Dee would be more stable than it would be with any of the other females because he'd be sated by the time they spoke to him, although not necessarily all that stable.

Making him wait would keep him on tenterhooks to do what she wanted. But it also meant any of the other females might tempt him to play against her. Unless he knew he could get more sexual favours from her... Sex now, plus a quick blowjob later might work.

Although his track record showed he liked to have sex with one female early on, and another one later. Grr! So easily manipulated and yet such a wildcard at the same time. Dee still had yet to take the time and attention to gather knowledge on how often Fum did that, and under what circumstances.

If he'd been kinkier, Dee mused, and didn't need to cum each time, then offering him little bits of titillation would be easier. But he wasn't. Bloody vanillas.

But then, like many males of simple sexual tastes, Fum maintained that he'd 'try anything once'. Heh, Dee thought, remembering the time he'd told her that and she'd asked him a string of questions. Apparently he'd try anything except coprophilia, paedophilia, necrophilia or menstruation play. Why he'd seem the most disgusted by the last option was beyond her.

So rise above the competition by offering something a bit naughtier, then. She briefly thought about Zot and Quux's approaches to sex before deciding on what would make her sexually unique for Fum. "Fum?" she whispered into his ear. "Let me turn over."

His eyes half-closed and unfocussed, he backed off to undress himself and give her time to move. Zot had always been too zen-like to be an enthusiastic whore (although Bayesian Philosophy Almighty, did that anteater do a good slow burn!). Quux still had a streak of male aggression that meant she didn't quite surrender as a fur might expect a female to do. So Dee went for the naughty-slut-who-talks-a-bit-dirty option: she wriggled out of her jumpsuit, settled on all fours on the bed and lifted her butt in the air. "Grab a hold of these, baby, while I take your big dick," she said in her huskiest voice.

One look over her shoulder told Dee what she needed to know: the effect on Fum. Wide, desiring eyes and a dry mouth numbly working up saliva. Just the ticket!

A rampant lion mounted her and Dee decided to talk about Zot and Quux after he'd finished.

Germany and Italy

Once Dee had returned to the main room she took time to watch the mouse. Sammi was putting on a calm enough veneer but the nerves showed faintly, like an exotic dancer's face glimpsed behind her veil. Well, the newbie could probably do with being approached so she found a glass, tipped in some fruit juice and sipped. Then over she went, her walk enhanced with a slight, businesslike strut. Perhaps if he played the game a certain way she'd approach with a sexy swagger, but not yet.

She came up behind him. "All right Mickey," she said, using a harmless old slang term for 'mouse'. She pitched her tone so that, if he had any sense of humour at all, he'd understand she didn't mean anything derogatory by it.

All the same, there was an element of testing in her use of the term. If it got his back up, he probably wasn't a good match for the Bayesian nakama.

His face, when he turned, registered no resentment, just nervous relief that somefur had spoken to him. He turned to face her, deftly whipping his bare tail around before resting it close to his heels. "Oh, hello again Dee."

"Managing to find your feet?" she asked, even though having watched him, she didn't think he had yet.

Sammi folded his ears down and stretched one corner of his mouth. "Not really," he answered, his accent African and thick. "I think you lot have a lot of history together and I can feel that right every time I try to start a conversation."

"There's a lot to watch, isn't there?" she agreed.

"There is. I think even dating's easier than this, this is a whole new level of verbal and non-verbal..." then he seemed to realise he was waxing lyrical and ducked his head. "Ah, you know the rest."

A pause grew between them and even Dee found herself wanting to gaze awkwardly around the room.

But then Sammi picked up the conversation again: "Is there any advice you can give me?" he asked. "About how the others play?"

Dee looked at him and wondered whether he realised that the decision to ask for help was part of the game in itself. Are you asking in genuine ignorance or have you heard that I don't like to lie and are trying to use that to your advantage? She tried to remember who she'd seen him talking to but could only remember Quux. Would Quux tell him about my values about lying?

Tough call.

But Sammi needed an answer. "Hmm, okay." She turned around so that rather than facing each other in the middle of the room, they stood side by side watching everyfur as if they'd been friends for years. How can I phrase all of this so that I don't end up giving away everyfur's techniques? She held her breath as she considered this. How about presenting him with information he already knows? In another fur's - my own - words, it'll initially seem like fresh info. And he'll be so pleased with the fact that I'll be confirming what he suspects, having not known any of us for very long. And I'll come out of it looking very friendly. Yep, that's my plan.

She nodded to the yellow-and-grey-furred anteater loitering demurely by the door. "Zot doesn't tend to say a great deal, so you'll probably end up making propositions to her but she'll not say anything back, regardless of whether she's decided to go with you on it or not."

"Does she show any body language either way?" he asked with what seemed to be becoming his main characteristic: a strange mix of nervousness and straightforward candor. He and Quux'd get on fine unless Dee was very much mistaken.

"If she does, I haven't picked up on it."

Sammi paused. "Oh," he said, in realisation of the depth of the problem.

"Bar and Foo, who went out the door a few minutes ago..." she thought about how best to phrase what she meant to say so that she didn't inadvertently give away the pony and donkeys' tactics. "They're close friends so their contribution to the game tends to involve a lot of interaction with each other." Once she'd said it she realised it had come across a bit weak. She hoped she'd implied enough that they could fight just as enthusiastically as ally on the Diplomacy board, but Sammi could take what he wanted from her words.

He nodded thoughtfully and gave Dee a friendly glance she interpreted as, So the two equines look after each other. We two rodents could, too. "What about Fum?" he asked.

"Fum?" she echoed, and then stroked her chin to give herself time to think. "He plays most of his game out here, not in there," she said, hiking a thumb at the doorway through which the board sat.

Sammi looked at her blankly. "Isn't that the point? This is the game, surely?" he said, sweeping a hand around the room.

Mickey had a point. "Yes, but my point is, he doesn't care what's happening on the board. His awareness of the game really is out here." And she left it at that. Dee knew what she meant and, although what she'd just said sounded pretty meaningless, it was something Sammi would do very well to heed.

No bastard liked to cross Fum because he reacted personally to it. That was what it boiled down to. Dee wondered whether it would be worth rephrasing herself but then decided not to. You asked for information and I've given it. The fact that you're none the wiser for it isn't my problem. But I've done you a favour, so you can do me one soon. That's the game.

Sammi seemed unable to help but look dissatisfied with Dee's answer. She saw a crease form on his brow and guessed he wanted to press her for more specific information, but then it disappeared.

Time for me to change tactics? she wondered.

"What about Quux?" he asked.

"Ah, Quux! Okay, she always plays Switzerland. She's only honourarily in the game. You won't be able to occupy Switzerland as per the normal rules, and she can't make any moves herself. But you can ask her to ally with you and she can ally with others against you."

Sammi looked confused. "But if she can't move and doesn't have any units, how can-" he countered before the coin dropped. His ears perked up as he realised what Quux's position meant. "Oh! Oh, so she plays her game out here!" he said, his voice meaty with wonder and triumph.

Dee grinned with spontaneous pleasure and nodded at him. "Exactly! Her game's out here. Believe me, Quux is too clever just to sit by the side and play judge. That'd do her nut in."

Sammi looked over at the goat and covered his mouth. He stroked at his lips, thinking, and murmured, "She plays her game out here." He glanced at Fum.

France and England

Foo came back into the room with a dusting of his hooves that was more symbolic than functional. In fact, it was a defensive gesture of sorts, a non-verbal lie to say, 'I feel carefree and I have sorted out my problems.' Which, for a recent assassination attempt victim, was untruthful but comforting to believe.

In any case, if any fur had asked him why he'd made the gesture he'd have said it had more to do with his conversation with Bar than with his recent misadventures. His dealings with Bar were 'all done and dusted,' as the saying went.

The first fur he saw on entering the room was Zot. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he sought her out. Either way, he made a beeline for her, which provides evidence that he didn't feel as carefree as he would have liked to pretend.

"Hi," he said to the heavy-furred anteater.

True meaning: I need to make contact with you because I'm feeling a little insecure. I'm still quite spooked about the failed murder.

"Hello Foo," she answered, her voice low and well-modulated, her face long and peaceful.

Translation: I feel passably all right about the plot, and I suspect you feel more rattled than I do, but I still appreciate you talking to me.

"Have you had many offers yet?" he asked, tilting his ears a little. The generous line of his mane flipped over and bounced with satisfying weight on the side of his neck and shoulder.

I know how you play it cool in this game, Zot. I also know you don't tend to win because you don't make it clear when you're allying with others. So I might as well ask you outright because it makes you flirt to avoid answering the question. That will achieve the social contact I want right now.

She smiled. "Perhaps."

I'm sure you know I don't talk about that. Either you're slow - which I know you're not - or you're playing with me. I think it's the latter.

He smiled back at her. "So?"

Ooh, this is much nicer than what was going through my mind earlier. Don't give up the information too quickly please, I'm taking the opportunity to relax.

"So," she returned, her cheeks creasing a little under her eyes. She said nothing else and licked at thin air with her narrow tongue.

I like to keep my emotional distance from other furs but I do enjoy it when others show they want to be with me. I don't feel any need to hurry you along. But I'm afraid of social intimacy so I won't encourage you too much, not from the heart at least.

Foo said nothing else, only bit his thick equine lip for a moment and then tilted his head, a look of intense friendship in his eyes.

I do feel close to you, Zot. And I wish I knew what was really going on inside that mind of yours.

Zot tilted her own head before she knew what she was doing. Then, when she realised she'd been manipulated into mirroring him she straightened up again. "You look well, Foo. How is Bar?"

I should be polite, given that you just duped me, because I think you made me tilt via an empathy born of our common experience. (And) I'll throw you this. It's a Diplomacy issue so that you can talk to me more. I'm enjoying this conversation more than I'd like to admit, even to myself.

Foo's eyes brightened as he recognised the bait. "He's going well. You know Bar. Like Orwell's Benjamin. Remember what they said in Animal Farm: "You never see a dead donkey."

Bar hasn't had to survive anything in particular lately, certainly not what you and I have. But he's my friend, so let's pretend he's in the same boat as us. If I compliment his astuteness then I am complimenting ours as well by association. I understand the fallacy of that but I'm willing to indulge in it anyway, especially if it will keep this conversation going because I don't think you'll call me on it.

Zot laughed. "No, you never do."

I learned long ago how to laugh politely, and it's always served me well in faking closeness. There you go, I just laughed for you. Bar hasn't had to survive anything noteworthy but I know it would be bad etiquette to say that right now. I don't know what else to say because you seem to be backing me into a corner where I have to feel more intimate towards you. I'd prefer that you didn't win me over because that would disturb my equilibrium too much. I'm thinking of ways to exit this conversation elegantly.

Foo smiled at her again, the spark of pure, pony warmth in the creases of his face, the subtle flare of his nostrils, the softness of his lips. "Are you okay?" he asked with a gentleness that could have broken a heart.

I just saw something in your eyes, and I liked it. It's something you keep so well-hidden, I don't think I've never seen it before. I'm going to take the plunge and ask if you're okay because you can either ignore me, or answer whether you're okay about the assassination attempt, or you can confide more generally in me. I'd love it if you did the latter.

Zot pulled her face into her usual inscrutable smile. "I'm well. I think everyfur's going through to the other room."

Oh- no! Please, let's not have this conversation any more. Let's finish it, Foo. Here's the perfect excuse, and it means I don't have to look like I'm cutting the conversation off with you.

Foo looked around and saw that Zot was right. "Oh yeah. Come on, then."

He offered her his arm, she took it, and together they went through, one sweeping yellow tail and one cascade of coarse pale hair waving behind them.

xXx

Everyfur adjourned to the next room, to the table on which Dee had arranged the board, pencils and paper. She watched Sammi as both he and she sat thoughtfully down, snaking her hairless tail through the back of the chair. His eyes, to her, looked guarded and a little bit apprehensive. Understandably enough.

The rat was just wondering at how deeply involved in the game he seemed to be already when the shade of apprehension in his eyes blinked out. She almost sat back in surprise as she saw whatever was going on in that skull of his disappear behind a veneer of casual interest in the other players, and then the board.

Well, that's first time players for you, she thought. She tried to ignore the nagging thought at the back of her mind telling her something wasn't quite right, examined it afresh, and decided that surely her first instinct was right, that Sammi was simply a nervous Diplomacy virgin.

Foo and Zot came into the room, looking gently at each other, and Dee saw something pass between them that had nothing to do with any game of Diplomacy. Foo still occasionally came across a little bit shaky after his accidental involvement in the attempt on Zot's life, and his lush tail was often high these days with nervous tension, the coarse hair there full almost to the point of his hackles being raised. His eyes, pony-soft and sweet, looked a little strained and Zot, in a demure show of kindness, touched his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they angled around to Dee's side of the table. They parted and the silent communicatilon between them ended. Foo pulled out his seat to one side of her with the slightly clumsy attitude of a foal and sat heavily down while Zot settled with gentle grace, apparently unaffected by the exchange.

"All right," Switzerland began in a calm and rational voice and tipped her head a little to one side, revealing her horns through her long hair. The pale pearls of her eyes sparkled with enjoyment as she surveyed the map laid out between them all with its outlines of the European provinces, each with a little army or fleet counter. "Germany, please read your orders."

Dee nodded once and straightened out her paper. "Okay, my first move is 'A Munich-Tyrolia'," and put her paper down on the table to allow those near enough to read it check what she'd written. She hadn't bothered to write her other instructions. They were all 'Hold', after all.

There was a chorus of 'hmm's around the table as everyfur took in this first move. Fum settled back in his seat with a quiet pride that bunched his heavy mane around his shoulders. Dee briefly made eye contact with him to reaffirm her erotic promise for later before checking on Sammi's reaction.

He narrowed his eyes, looked at Dee and nodded his acceptance.

She remained stock-still and wondered at what his first moves would be.

"Zot?" Quux prompted, her movements ever-gentle but somehow very different from the anteater's self-conscious slowness.

"A Paris Holds, A Marseilles Holds, A Brest Holds," she read calmly and put her paper down.

"But- hang on!" Sammi protested before realising he'd just encountered his first taste of the true Diplomacy. Dee saw it by the outrage-realisation-sullenness series of expressions on his face. Most of the furs seated at the table responded with some variation of either politely masking their amusement or openly smirking. Dee couldn't help creasing her brow and offering her fellow rodent a consoling smile.

You don't learn to ride without falling off the bike a few times.

Sammi lowered his ears in acceptance of her message, and Dee wondered whether it might be worth taking advantage of their species similarity later in the game. After all, any excuse to team up could work. She fought the impulse to stroke her chin and filed that one away for later.

Just as Quux opened her mouth to speak once more Dee glanced at Fum for his reaction again. He didn't seem disappointed that Zot had refused to offer support. But then, Dee knew perfectly well he knew what to expect from the anteater.

What he expected, what he wanted and what he intended to get didn't necessarily tessellate.

"Foo?" asked the goat.

Foo smiled with an equine dignity that belied his general state of mind and turned his paper up in his hooves so he could read it. "F London-English Channel, F Edinburgh-North Sea." The paper was laid down for all to see, including Zot, who mutedly raised her eyebrows.

"Mm hmm," Quux said, both blandly and with her own, squeaky-clean version of intrigue. Then she turned an inquiring brow to the donkey. "Bar?"

"No moves," he said, with emphasis on the unused word 'yet'. He and Foo exchanged knowing smiles which the rest of the group noticed but nobody understood enough to comment on.

Yet, Dee couldn't resist thinking.

"Sammi?" Quux asked.

Everybody watched the mouse with special interest, which didn't go unnoticed by Sammi. He cleared his throat, looked at his paper and said, "My only move was going to be A Venezia-Tyrolia, so I suppose I'm unable to move this time." He gave Dee an uncomfortable smile and set his paper down.

So that means neither am I, thought Dee, gave him a smile and nod that was curt but friendly enough to show he had no need to feel as uncomfortable as he seemed, and searched around for a pen. She underlined her order and handed the pen to Sammi so he could do the same.

"Fum?" asked Quux, settling happily into her role as Switzerland. Or perhaps she was betraying a rapport between herself and Fum.

He threw Sammi a carnivorous grin and read his instructions: "A Warsaw-Galicia, A Sevastopol-Rumania, A St. Petersburg-Finland."

Well, Dee reflected, it had been an interesting draw: the out-in-the-sticks Russia for aggressive Fum. Dee looked down at the board and wondered at how he'd balanced his enduring desire to fight - and to fuck - with common sense. On the one hand he'd gone into the currently empty Scandanavia to take Norway and Sweden rather than use the unit to move into Livonia ready to attack or support somefur, but on the other hand, had ignored Turkey, which technically he already had cornered.

The pieces were moved and glances were sent across the table - resentful, encouraging, cool, sensuous, thoughtful, smug.

What a mix.

"A slightly hesitant start, some of you," Quux commented, although she glanced at Fum as she said this. "You know the rules, you all have fifteen minutes for discussion, now."

xXx

For the rest of the game Dee watched and queried, allied and demured, eavesdropped and whispered. And all through it a little something nagged at her.

Sammi.

The mouse was brave enough to join a group of intellectuals, and yet he seemed nervous. On the face of it, this seemed reasonable, just a courageous fur doing something that his confidence only just allowed. So why was it that Dee felt something to be so wrong? Time and time again she watched him and asked her nakama about him, but each time nothing came up that she could put her finger on and say, that's what's wrong.

Eventually, as the game drew to a close, she was forced to forget about it. If anything was really wrong a clue would have to come to her. She'd hunted all she could.

xXx

Extracts from executive summary of Mission Briefing for Sammi:

...while we have been generally successful in suppressing research into these areas, both by our own direct efforts and with the assistance of Earthly intelligence agencies, we have recently noticed a disturbing pattern. Independent research groups are being hired, through various anonymous means, to investigate certain items that come uncomfortably close to our areas of interest. Individually, they are of little concern, and easily dealt with; however, looked at as a whole, they form a comprehensive but compartmentalized research program...

...public social profiles mention regular face-to-face meetings, ostensibly for playing games with each other. These meetings often include guests, which seems to be an ideal method for introducing one of our agents into the social group and begin investigations...

THE END.