Not Even Not Zen 428: Aleksi, Note 1 - Cosmic Encounters

Cosmic Encounters

It was a Saturday afternoon in early spring, warm enough (for Massachusetts) to enjoy being outside, but free of pollen (because it was Massachusetts). My girlfriend had some of her friends over, which meant by social logic, I invited my friends, too, even though I was not one of my girlfriend's nine roommates. So for my part, I'd invited Aleksi and Donna. 

This is pretty much the way it works in your twenties. You inherit social groups the way you inherit old furniture. Sure, you didn't choose it exactly but here it is and it's pretty comfortable. At this point, I'd graduated and moved back to Massachusetts because, in its way, it was comfortable. I only sometimes slept in my girlfriend's mod. (Note: she called her group home a 'mod' because the term at our college was short for 'modular houses.' She lived in one of a row of apartments designed with the sort of bold minimalism that says, 'We had a budget of eighty dollars and a dream.')

However, there's only so much socializing you can do over a meal before your pants file a formal complaint. I've always preferred games. They give you something to do with your hands while you talk. We played spades, hearts, and rummy around the mod dining room table for about an hour. Then Aleksi got out something he'd brought by pre-arrangement, a board game called Cosmic Encounters. He said he had played it once before and it was great. He said it wouldn't take long to learn. This is, of course, what people always tell you about new games, although the learning curve for a game is sand in the gears of fun. As it turned out, though, Al was right. He had prepared. By the time we had set up the hex-grid board, he was done ensuring we knew the rules.

I was all for it. This was yet another social thing. And even though I'd never played, I assumed I'd do well. I usually pick up social games pretty quickly because I grew up with them. They were as good as bowling or, nowadays, as axe throwing.

"Is that whiskey?" Al asked when I sat back down with a glass. Because my girlfriend encouraged me to drink, I had fallen off the wagon. Anyway, it was a college environment in the 1980s. A little smoking and drinking could be taken for granted although, in the mod, hardly anyone did actually smoke except for a little weed behind closed doors or an occasional tobacco cigarette outside.

"Do you want some?" I offered.

He shook his head. "Not today."

Two of my girlfriend's roommates sat down to play with us, while others did what people do on a relaxed college Saturday. They drifted in and out of the room, raided the fridge, and maybe leaned against the kitchen counter to watch for a while. Sitting at the board, I concentrated for a few minutes. In Space Empires, each player gets two alien races, and each race comes with its own special powers. That's the game's way of giving everyone a fighting chance while also, it turns out, giving me a completely unfair advantage because about two minutes in, I saw how my two races were a good match. It was like they'd been waiting for each other their whole fictional, alien lives. After a couple of turns figuring out how movement worked, I started to methodically wipe the map with everybody.

Toward the end, the social pressure started to mount. My girlfriend was making sad eyes at me. Her roommates were sighing with quiet dignity. I felt I'd gotten caught up in my winning strategy so much I'd forgotten to be nice to everyone.

I had six captured systems and needed seven to win, so I did the usual, good-winner thing I often did: I eased off to let everyone catch up. I declined to take the seventh system - although I figured I would take it in another turn or two.

I had not, however, been paying any attention to Aleksi. He had been lurking in the middle of the pack. I got up to make myself another drink, returned to stand over the board with my glass in hand, and discovered Al building up a huge space force. Then it was his turn to wipe the map with everyone. I sat down and tried to stop him. But he used his special alien powers. Really.

He won. He crushed everyone and knocked me back from a winning move at the same time. On his next turn, he expanded to nine systems. There was no way to bust him back to six. I hadn't encountered anything like this in years.

"Why did you ease up?" he asked me at the end. He placed his final piece on a hex.

"To be nice?"

"Well, it's not so nice." He hunched his shoulders a little.

I knew Al enjoyed the social aspect of games. I had never realized how much he liked to compete.

"I had to teach you not to do that," he said. "I mean, if I could. I had to get lucky, too."

He hadn't been lucky, though. And that was something for me to remember.