THE NOBLE GAME

Bruce Alen Klaiss

Father glanced up. "This is a very delicate situation, Catherine.Are you certain that you don't want some help?"

"No, thanks, Father," Catherine replied, "I got myself into this;I'll get myself out...if I can." She returned her attention to thetable, glaring at the mess she had created.

She had carelessly fallen for Vincent's diversion on the queensideof the chessboard and lost a bishop there. From that point, Vincenthad launched an attack on her king that she was barely able to holdback. The game, though, had reached a crisis point. If she made theright move, she would gain some breathing room. But the wrongchoice....

She finally moved a knight to block Vincent's queen from capturinga vital square. She smiled sweetly at him: "How's that?"

Vincent nodded slightly. "Good...except for this." He moved hisown knight and murmured, "Check."

Catherine stared at the position in surprise. She had forgottenthat knight in worrying about his queen. Worse, she could not moveout of the check, and the only piece she could capture the attackerwith was her own knight...the one guarding the queen. She forlornlyplayed knight takes knight; Vincent moved queen to rook's seven:"Checkmate."

Father softly chuckled as he patted Catherine's shoulder. "If it'sany consolation, my dear, I did not see it coming either. I would nothave been of much help after all."

"Thanks for the sympathy," she mock-growled back, then turned toVincent. "You're just too good for me, and I never was great atchess. Is there anyone here that can beat you?"

"Only Kipper," Father interjected. "He has made great strides inlearning; he's even becoming a threat to Vincent's reputation ofindominability."

"Father takes particular pleasure in being the one who firsttaught Kipper how to play," Vincent added, with a sly look in hiseyes.

"Yes; well, I take any vicarious pleasure I can from other'striumphs since I lost my advantage over you...when you turnedfourteen!"

Catherine laughed at son and father's sparring. These two cared sodeeply for each other that they could banter with no worry of hurtingeach other's feelings. It was a delight to listen to them. She saidto Vincent, "When Kipper plays you again, let me know. I suppose I'llneed to take indirect revenge on you, too."

"Rest assured I shall," he replied. Then he turned thoughtful; hishand played idly with the black king on the board. "I suppose that atrue master or grandmaster would fear little in my play; I have noexperience against such strong players.... I have seengrandmasters play, though, a few times."

"What!?" Father gasped. "When was this?"

"When Devin and I were boys." Vincent leaned back in his chair,and his eyes filled with memories. "We would creep into the gardenbehind the Marshall Chess Club at night, and we would watch theplayers through the windows from the shadows. We saw Evans,Reshevsky...even Fischer was there one night. We could not follow thegames, but just to see the players was a thrill."

Father shook his head in awe, exasperation and amusement. "It willbe the death of me one of these days to listen to your exploits withDevin." Catherine, though, was fascinated. She asked, "Have you beenback recently?"

Vincent said, "No," and smiled. "I am too big to hide therenow.... But I can still enjoy the games played there, and elsewhere."He rose and went over to one of Cullen's new bookcases, where thevast clutter of Father's library was slowly &endash; and finally&endash; getting organized. He pulled out a few small magazines andreturned to the table. "Peter is a member of the Marshall; he sendsus the club newsletter after he has read it. I learned what I knowfrom Father's tutoring, and chess books and magazines such as these.The world's greatest players have taught me...shared their secretswith me."

Catherine grinned. "Now I know what I can get you for a Christmaspresent."

"The true chessplayer can never have too many books,Catherine."

Catherine had to leave shortly after that,reluctantly as always. Back in her apartment, she changed out of hersweater and jeans into a nightgown and absently began brushing outher hair, but she was replaying the conversation with Vincent in hermind.

He had long ago accepted the consequences of his life, and wouldnever demand different of fate. Yet something in her sensed a desirein him to test himself against a well-known, skilled opponent. It wasnot surprising to Catherine; in her experience, though small, mostchessplayers were very competitive. She was herself, every time shesat down across the board from Vincent, although it was a foregoneconclusion who would win. She counted herself lucky to ever salvagean occasional draw out of their games.

There must be a safe way to find a master for him toplay, she thought as she lay down the hairbrush. And I'llsearch until I find one. Then she grinned wickedly; if nothingelse, she could get that vicarious vengeance. Good grief, I'mgetting as bad as Father! And she laughed as she turned out thelight at what Father would say to that.

The next morning, Catherine called PeterAlcott and asked him to have supper with her that night. Meeting himat his office and walking to the restaurant, she told him of hergoal. "Is there anything you can suggest, Peter? I don't have thefaintest idea where to start; I don't know enough about anyone in thechess world to make an attempt."

Peter shot a hand through his hair and grinned. "You're not afraidto dream big for him, are you? Myself, I don't see how you can pullit off. But I'll give it some thought; maybe we'll come up withsomething between us.... Say, how would you like to come with me tothe club after dinner? I could show you around."

"Yes, I would. Thanks!" Catherine had heard of the Marshall ChessClub before, as her father was also a member while he was alive. Butshe had never visited the place while growing up; her interest inchess had been small before meeting Vincent. So, after a leisurelymeal, the two hailed a cab and were soon at the brownstone on Tenththat housed the Marshall. Peter ushered her in the door, and thereher images of a chess club were broken.

She had always imagined such a place to be loaded withdark-stained oak paneling, deep leather chairs, heavy woodfurnishings and a tomb-like silence. Instead she found a pleasant,brightly-painted and well-lit room. Windows opened onto the street infront, a small garden in back that must have been from where Vincentand Devin spied on the members. The fixtures were far from ponderous;and, though the talk was somewhat hushed in deference to ongoinggames, a pleasant buzz of quiet conversation drifted to her ears.

A regular thump and click attracted her attention to one corner.There, two men were playing the fastest chess game she had ever seen.Whenever the players made a move &endash; and a piece was moved aboutevery three or five seconds &endash; they would punch buttons on topof a double-faced clock sitting beside the board. Then she noticed asmall red marker flip down on one of the dials. One of the playerssaw it too. He pressed the buttons, pointed at the clock and said afew words to his opponent, who winced, grinned and started to set upthe pieces again, while the first man reset the clock.

"Five-minute chess," Peter said quietly. "Each side has fiveminutes to play. The clock controls the time; if the flag falls, thatplayer loses."

Catherine said, "That's too fast for me. I have enough of astruggle playing a normal game."

They drifted deeper into the club. Peter paused now and then tosay hello to a friend who was free or looking up from a game, andintroduced Catherine to them. He pointed out a coffee pot on a sidetable; she nodded yes, and they went over and drew cups. Catherinesipped, and said, "This place is wonderful."

"It's a rarity in America, or in most of the world for thatmatter. Most clubs meet once a week in town recreation halls orlibraries, or members' houses...even bars and restaurants. But theMarshall owns this building and is open every day. A lot of chesstalent earned their spurs here...Bobby Fischer was a member, forinstance."

"Where is he these days?"

"It depends on your viewpoint. His body is living in California,the last I heard; but some say his brain lives on another planeentirely at the same time. That would explain many things, Isuppose."

A man in his early forties came around the corner, carrying abriefcase-like affair that Catherine recognized as a laptop computer.Peter recognized him and said, "Andy, how are you tonight?"

Andy turned around on hearing Peter's voice and came back. "Prettygood, Peter. And who's the new member here?"

Catherine grinned. "Sorry; my ego's too fragile to join."

Peter performed introductions. "Are you checking out thechampionship tonight?"

"Yeah. I'm just going to get permission to tie into the phone linenow. Gonna watch?"

"Sure; we'll be right over."

Andy nodded and ambled off, while Catherine asked Peter, "What'sgoing on?"

"Andy is bringing in his computer during the World Championship sowe can keep up with the games. CaissaLink has a correspondent at thematch site who reports back the moves, and some grandmasters in thepress room give commentary and analysis."

"Mmhmm, that's good.... Now, what's a CaissaLink?"

Peter chuckled. "You'll see. Come on; Andy's waving us over."

Andy was plugging a phone cord into the back of his computer asthey approached his table and pulled up chairs. He turned it on, thentyped in a few commands; a new screen came up, the machine quietlybeeped, and the words You are LINKedappeared.

"CaissaLink is a dial-in computer service," Peter explained, whilekeys clicked in the background. "You pay for your time online, and inreturn you can play chess with people from anywhere while sitting inyour own living room. They also have columnists, instructionalarticles, and reporters send in news on big events, sometimes livelike tonight. You can even 'talk' to each other while playing."

Catherine turned her attention to the computer screen, intriguedby the concept. Edie had shown her how some of the law-enforcementdata networks operated, but this was the first time she had ever seensuch a hookup for leisure-time use.

Meanwhile, Andy was typing in a series of commands; he finallygrunted in satisfaction and called out, "Gentlemen, we're connectedto Hamburg. They're resuming the game from yesterday's adjournment."A crowd gathered around their table; someone opened up a wall-mountedcabinet, revealing a large hanging board with magnetic chess pieces.Two tables were drawn over and the same position as on the wallboardset up. All was ready for heavy thought and work.

Andy read out the moves as they were printed on his screen, alongwith the supplied analysis. Each piece was then moved on thewallboard, while the members stood around the two tables and workedout their own ideas for what to play next. Catherine just sat backand watched the action, both fascinated and amused. So muchbrainpower thrown at a game, and one in which they could not eventake a direct, active part. Yet it was an enjoyable challenge to tryand anticipate what the champion and challenger would do next.

Then, recalling Peter's explanation of what this network could do,the germ of an idea started coming to her....

The game in Hamburg lasted only a half-hour; some in the roomgroused that it should have been drawn yesterday instead ofrestarted, as there was no point in "pushing wood" when nothing morecould be accomplished. The two players must have finally felt thesame way, for the computer suddenly said, The gamehas been drawn by agreement. Andy said, "It's a draw, folks.They split the point on move 76. They'll play the next game in twodays; I'll be here then. A transcript of these moves will be postedthen as well." The crowd behind him broke up and drifted away totheir own games, while some few remained at the two analysis boardsto keep worrying the problem over.

Andy was preparing to sign off the network when Catherine touchedhim on the arm. "Excuse me; Peter tells me you can actually playgames with others on here?"

"Yes, that's right," Andy said with a smile. "Would you like tosee?"

"Please, if you don't mind. I'll be glad to pay for yourbill."

"Don't worry; it's my pleasure." He turned back to the computerand punched keys, while Peter leaned over and whispered inCatherine's ear: "Cathy, are you thinking...."

She nodded, a happy smile brightening her face. "And you showed methe way to it. If this works, then it's the perfect way for Vincentto play someone!"

It took a month to set up the details, mostof which was spent waiting for CaissaLink to send Catherine'smembership package. During that time, she bought a good-qualitycomputer with the best graphics she could find, and talked Edie intohelping her set it up, as well as teaching her some basic skills.

Edie was willing, but she was also curious. Sitting in front ofthe screen on a Saturday afternoon, she asked, "Girlfren', don't youhave more fun things to do than play computer games? Or are youworried about job security and want to improve your skills?"

Catherine giggled at that. "No, I'm just doing this for a friend.Anyway, I can always use it for my own work&endash;"

"Yeah, that's what they all say. Then you spend all night tryingto beat the high score on Fragglezoids." Edie's voice droppedto a stage whisper. "Don't worry, though; your secret's safe withme.... So, will your secret boyfriend enjoy this setup?"

Catherine's smile suddenly felt frozen to her face. She said,"What's a boyfriend? You know how busy Joe keeps me; I'm lucky tohave this time with you."

"Then you're not still seeing that Vincent?"

Good God, that's right; she saw the book of sonnets whenVincent was captured by Hughes. The blood drained out of hercheeks as she looked away, struggling to say something that would betruthful and yet not endanger Vincent and the Tunnels. It hurt&endash; Edie was her best friend at the office outside of Joe, butCatherine could not share the most vital thing in life with her. Shefinally said, quietly, "I am seeing him, Edie. But it's toocomplicated to explain, and I have a promise to keep to him. I can'ttell you any more."

Hurt flickered through Edie's dark eyes, and Catherine wasinstantly sorry; maybe it would have been better to lie and say no.But then Edie shrugged and smiled and said, "It's okay, Cathy.... Hemust be some special for you to be so devoted to him. That's all Ineed to know."

"Oh, I wish I could tell you more...." Catherine could not saymore, for she found herself held in a tight embrace, her face buriedin her friend's dreadlocks.

"It's all right, girlfren'. Just tell this dude that I'm comin'for him if he ever jilts you." And Catherine had to laugh at thepicture springing into her mind: Edie chasing down a tunnel afterVincent with a baseball bat in her hands and bloody murder in hereyes.

Edie said, "That's better." She let go and regarded Catherine withmock severity. "Now, time for a quiz."

"Oh, no, not a quiz! Please, not that!"

"Hey, just 'cause you got me all soapy doesn't mean I'm goin' tolet up on you. Now hit that keyboard!"

"Yes, sir!"

Catherine learned well under Edie'stutelage, quickly becoming able to "boot up" the computer and run aprogram with no assistance. Then the package arrived from CaissaLink;she accepted the envelope from Henry the mail clerk with eagernessand sat down to learn how to sign on to the service and reach theareas she wanted.

She made it in on her first attempt with no fumbles whatsoever. Aswas normal, a short bulletin of upcoming events appeared; she read itand smiled in delight. Fate for once was conspiring with them insteadof against them, and her desire was taking shape.

One week later, Vincent looked up from hisbook and saw Father walking out of the chamber &endash; clad in hisold suit instead of Tunnel patchwork. Vincent arched his brows atthat. "Father, is everything well? Why are you going Above?"

"Oh, everything is fine, Vincent," Father replied soothingly. "Oneof the Helpers sends word that there is something I must absolutelysee for myself, and they cannot possibly bring it here." He grinned."So I am going there."

Vincent regarded him curiously. Father had been Above only once inthirty-plus years, and that trip almost turned into a majorcatastrophe. Whatever drew him Up Top now was either incrediblywonderful, or wonderfully distressing. But there was no distresspresent in Father. Rather, he sensed excitement; more and morepuzzling. He said, "Would you like some company? You have me curiousnow."

"And a little worried, correct? Don't fret, it's perfectly safe&endash; at least as safe as Above ever is. Anyway, I know you'regoing to see Catherine tonight. You will enjoy her company far morethan mine. Goodnight!" Before his son had a chance to say anotherword, Father was out the door.

Vincent was tempted for a second to follow behind anyway, sendingEric or Kipper up to Catherine's with a note of explanation. But thenhe relaxed and sighed. Father should be able to take care of himself,and apparently did not desire Vincent's presence. Whatever was goingon, though, he would get a full report on it when they were togetheragain. He smiled inwardly at that: the father reporting his movementsto the son instead of the other way around.

In the meantime, it was time to leave himself. It would be fulldark just as he reached the Door closest to Catherine's apartment,and she had asked him to arrive as early as safely possible. He wentdown to his chamber to retrieve his cloak, and turned for the GreatStair.

Arriving on Catherine's balcony, he was surprised to findsomething he was familiar with only from pictures &endash; acomputer. Catherine had never mentioned owning one, and this hadnever sat on the balcony table before. And a chessboard and men wereset up beside it. Vincent chuckled as he considered the combination;perhaps she was attempting to improve her game so she could defeathim once. Honor was at stake here, no doubt, else she would have cometo him for aid.

Then he sensed her approach. The French doors swept open, andthere she was, dressed in a Victorian blouse and skirt and carryingtwo glasses of wine on a tray. She said, "Welcome to the ChandlerChess Club, sir. Are you ready to meet your opponent?"

He smiled as he accepted a glass. "I am always ready to meet you,Catherine."

"Oh, no, not me, sir. I'm only the manager of the club; youropponent is someone else tonight."

"Indeed so, Vincent." Father's voice??? Hair flying, Vincentsnapped back toward the doors. From around the corner appearedFather, followed by Peter, both carrying drinks in their hands andsmiles on their faces.

To say that Vincent was surprised would be an understatement.Peter in Catherine's apartment was not that shocking, butFather here? He turned to Catherine, mutely appealing forexplanation.

She smiled, and the bond echoed her joy, as she set down her glasson a side table. "I knew they would like to watch you as you playedyour first real master chess game. So I invited them up."

Sadly for Vincent, the explanation did not help much. "You wish meto play the computer?"

"Not play the computer, but play through the computer." Shetouched a key. The machine, which had been idling in readiness,suddenly flashed a list of prewritten commands; then the screencleared and displayed CaissaTerm in largegraphics. "Peter helped me come up with this last month...."

"By accident, Cathy," Peter objected. "You're the one who took theleap of imagination."

"Well, if you hadn't taken me to the Marshall that night, it wouldhave been much longer before I found this." She turned back toVincent. "With this, you can play against people anywhere withouttheir seeing you. And if you like, your first game can be against aSoviet master!"

She was incredible. No matter the limits that seemed imposed onhim, she searched until she found a way to circumvent them. Hereached out and folded her into his arms. "Thank you so much for thisgift," he said. "I will cherish it always."

Catherine leaned into Vincent's chest, enjoying every moment shecould of his touch &endash; until a throat being cleared brought themboth back to earth; Father was glancing away in embarrassment, whilePeter just stood there grinning. Turning businesslike, she said, "Wehad better get you signed on. Things will begin soon." She releasedVincent and struck another key. A second routine took over, dialingthe telephone plugged into the computer and completing theconnections. Vincent read the words as they flashed by:

Connected at 14400 bps

You are LINKed!

Your name, please? candlemaker

Password? xxxxxxx

Welcome to CaissaLink!

Tonight's special event: a 30-board simultaneousexhibition by Soviet

grandmaster Sergei Murov. 8:00 p.m. ET; go to pageEXHIBIT.

Type GO <page> or press Enter for the mainmenu.

! go exhibit

"Murov!" Vincent gasped in amazement.Father and Peter were taken aback as well. Peter said, "Cathy, do yourealize just how good this man is? He was only a few steps away fromthe World Championship when he lost. He's one of Russia's best!"

Catherine shook her head. To her, Sergei Murov was only a name. Inher zeal to do something for Vincent, she may have sandbagged him!Then a slow smile crept back, and she said, "Well, Father...we mayget our revenge on him yet!"

In the meantime, the computer had reached their destination. Thescreen flickered; a chessboard filled an upper quarter, with blackpieces at the board's bottom. Below it was a message:Grandmaster Murov is 10 boards away; please wait for White's firstmove. The number kept counting down, then the white king'spawn moved two squares. The screen printed,[Murov] Good evening and good luck, and belowthat, Please make your move, while thecountdown started again from 30. Catherine said, "I'll type in yourmoves for you."

Vincent's eyes glowed. "Algebraic notation? Pawn to c5, please."He moved the two pawns on the board beside the computer and sat downon the appropriate side.

The balcony fell silent except for the dim rumble of traffic fromthe street and the periodic click of computer keys. Father and Petersat across the board from Vincent to watch the game; occasionallythey would whisper quietly to one another behind cupped hands.Vincent called out his moves, and Catherine relayed back Murov'sreplies as they were printed on the screen.

Gradually, she noticed that theThinking....sign, which appeared when Murov was on Vincent'sgame, was staying on longer each time. This did not surprise her toomuch, for any chess game will hit unknown land eventually. But Peterhad told her that an exhibitor moved quickly in a "simul" like this,so that things did not drag out for the opponents.

On Murov's next move, he took four minutes. Then a message lineappeared: [Murov] Would you mind telling meyour Elo rating, please? Catherine read it to Vincent with apuzzled frown and asked, "What is an Elo rating?"

Vincent said, "It is a measure of strength in serious play...." Hepondered a bit before continuing, "Queen to e8. Tell him the truth, Isuppose...that I have no rating."

Catherine nodded and typed the move and message. Ten minuteslater: [Murov] You have never played in aserious game before??

"No, but I have studied extensively."

[Murov] Quite extensively, myfriend!!!

Twelve moves later, Murov's game was in a shambles. By skillfullytrading off knights and sacrificing a pawn, Vincent had developeddangerous threats that his opponent could not ignore. A black queenand rook were ready to cut through white's protection. It was only amatter of time; Murov's remaining pieces were too scattered to staveoff defeat. Murov, "arriving" at the board, stayed only a few momentsbefore the computer flashed, White has resigned thegame. Then: [Murov] An excellent game,my friend Congratulations!

Vincent, through Catherine, replied, "Thank you very much. It wasan honor and great privilege to play you."

[Murov] The honor was mine. May we meetagain one day. Good evening to you!

Immediately after that, the balcony went mad. Catherine jumpedover and pulled Vincent into a gleeful hug, while Father and Peterslapped him on the back and cried congratulations. The bond wasradiant within as Catherine said, "You really did it!"

"I never had a doubt," Father said. "After all, I have played himfor twenty years."

Vincent replied, "I had my doubts.... But I placed them aside andjust played."

Catherine rushed into the kitchen and returned with a chilledbottle of champagne and four glasses. As she poured, Father remarked,"You certainly know how to run a chess club, Catherine!"

She handed him a glass with a pert smile. "This club has a veryexclusive membership, sir. The management is determined that theyreceive the best."

They all raised their glasses, then Father proposed, "ToVincent... who can give the best in the world a run for their money."Peter and Catherine murmured, "Hear, hear," and they all drank thetoast.

Catherine and Vincent sat on the balconyfloor an hour later, she resting back against his broad chest and hisarms about her shoulders. Peter and Father had left some time before,so that the lovers could have privacy. Now she quietly said, "I'm soglad you enjoyed the evening."

"It was a dream fulfilled.... You constantly amaze me with allthat you do to increase my world."

"I could do no less for you. You deserve the chances that othershave so easily." She slipped the fingers of one hand in between his,glancing over at the computer. "Whenever you would like a game on thecomputer, just come; I'll gladly sign on for you."

"I will do that in the future. For now, though," and he breatheddeeply, "I am content." A few minutes of loving silence passed, then:"I wonder which he would have preferred?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"Siegbert Tarrasch, a grandmaster of the past. He said that chess,like love and music, has the power to make men happy."

"And which do you prefer, Vincent?"

His smile warmed her heart and soul far more than the wine as hereplied, "Need I answer that, Catherine?"