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Online Chess
The Net's
Place Your Ad Advertise to Single insert:
The Mall
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Mirror Mirror - Part One by S.D. Tortorice Author’s Notes: A couple of things that need addressing: My selection of Russia and China as future combatants was chosen for two reasons. First, I recently read an interesting article that presented a hypothetical situation in which China felt compelled to grab some resource-rich land from Russia in order to drive its expanding economy. This story reflects that interesting scenario. Second, I believe that China will be a growing world chess influence in the future, perhaps challenging Russia’s current domination. Hence another rationale for my selection. Various large scale military units are mentioned in this story (battalions, regiments, etc), yet their depiction does not suggest the hefty numbers of men and material often found in such units. This is not an oversight, but a deliberate belief that in the future, large units would just make large targets. As a result, I posit that a battalion or regiment, or what-have-you, will be lean and mean compared to similar units of today, staffed by equipment enhanced individual soldiers capable of performing at the level of dozens of contemporary men. This is not a novel idea, but has been proposed as far back as the publication of Heinlein’s Starship Troopers. And, of course, recent U.S. military actions and developments seem to prove the point. A chess game is central to this story. While it is meant to simulate grandmaster level chess, clearly it is not. The game in the story was one I played against the CHESSMASTER 8000 opponent know as Willow, rated at 1108—about my playing strength. I was mostly interested in generating a game that would illustrate certain ideas that I felt were essential to the story. Therefore, the quality of the game was less important that the principles it embodied. With that in mind, please don’t email me with complaints that bona fide GMs would never play exd4, when Bb6 is superior. Quite frankly, your analysis would just be lost on me anyway! However, general discussions of the included game are welcome as I am always looking to improve my play (and what chess player isn’t?) :-)
Finally, this is a story about chess as metaphor, and metaphor as chess (and
whatever else my febrile imagination felt inclined to include). The
point is: it’s just a story. Read it, enjoy it, but don’t take it to
heart—or at least anything besides what the future of warfare may look like.
Enjoy! And, as always, comments are welcomed at:
wargamerscott@peoplepc.com. And now the story....
Winter, 2095 AD Adrei Slova reached out and shook the hand of his opponent. He then sat down in front of his white pieces that were aligned neatly on the chess board. His opponent did the same in front of the black chessmen. Both waited for the officials to start the clocks that would officially start the game, no, Andrei corrected himself, the battle. His opponent, Jin Leng, was very, very good. He would be no pushover. As Slova waited, he glanced around the large auditorium that sat in the downtrodden city of Qiqihar in extreme northeastern China. All in all, he was impressed by the effort that had been expended to make this match a reality. Despite the ongoing, bitter war that had so damaged both nations, the Chinese and Russian national chess federations had managed to temporarily put aside their respective nation’s political and military differences and agree to a “chess championship for peace,” as the promotional literature called it. Both federations put in many hours wrangling with their respective governments to make this match a reality. Initially, both governments were cold to the idea, but quite suddenly both relented and allowed the match to take place. Russia even went so far as to permit the match to take place within China, as long as sufficient security guarantees for the Russian chess delegation were given. Within a matter of months, the match became a reality, and the people of Russia and China had a non-violent contest to distract them from the all too real bloodshed that was ravaging both nations. Clearly, the government of China spared no expense in preparing an adequate venue for their match. Slova stared out across the thousands of spectators that filled the auditorium that was especially built by China—with matching Russian financial contributions of course---for this championship bout. As a result, the auditorium displayed both Russian and Chinese architectural influences. The audience, likewise, appeared to be a mix of Chinese and Russian nationals, although slightly more Chinese were evident as it was still quite difficult for Russians to make the trip despite pre-arranged transportation provided by China. Nonetheless, Slova was quite pleased to see so many of his countrymen made the arduous trip to see him fight and, just perhaps, win. After flashing Leng a quick, if impatient, smile, Slova studied the chess board. It was a very modern affair, with a polished metal surface of white and red enameled squares, and angular metal pieces with Staunton stylings. The board itself was computerized, attested to by the bundle of cabling that snaked from its underside. It was hooked up to the large, flat screen display that occupied three-quarters of the wall to Slova’s left. On it, the board position was displayed, as well as countdown timers for both players and an area to display captured pieces. The board was also hooked up to a powerful computer, located in the building, that would be performing instant analysis of the current position that would be accessible to the audience members via their seat’s liquid crystal displays. Finally, the board position along with the computer analysis, and any other digital information the tournament directors wanted to include, were all being piped into a communications relay center that sat atop the roof, ready to beam, via a special civilian geo-synchronous satellite---operated by the Hypernet Chess Club---all the real time action of this chess match watched by an estimated 125 million around the world. Slova glanced up and saw Val Skorvenson, the senior Norwegian tournament director, walk to the center of the stage where they sat. He nodded to both players and turned to face the audience and deliver a promised brief introduction before starting the match. While he prattled on, Slova glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Yuri Kernov, his nearly lifelong chess trainer who stood off stage. Both exchanged warm smiles. Just before he turned around, he happened to glance at Ivan Martov, a recent addition to his chess retinue, standing off in the shadows. Martov was forced upon Slova by Moscow. Even though both Kernov and Slova objected to any additions to the Russian chess staff, Martov presence was non-negotiable. Moscow insisted that a practiced diplomatic envoy be present with Slova’s team to smooth over any cultural or legal difficulties that might arise. All in all, Slova did not mind Martov tagging along. While his bulky frame seemed to suggest security more than diplomacy, the man seemed to be just another politically well-connected chess player that pulled a few strings to be present at the match of the decade. His eagerness to be present at every strategy session prior to the match, along with his superfluous presence, gave him away. Well, what Moscow wants, Moscow gets.... * * * * 1 kilometer west of Ussurijsk, Russia—the forward edge of the battle area (FEBA) General F. F. Lenowski sat in the belly of his command tank and tried to stay warm. Outside, the frigid night air was being swept by a 50 kph wind that was blowing right out of the arctic. He shivered in sympathy as he thought about his armored infantry dug into the tree line just a few hundred yards to his front---out in the cold, with only the meager heat their battlesuits could provide. He glanced down at his command display and reviewed his XXIII Corps’ deployment for the umpteenth time. He sure hoped that Moscow knew what it was doing. It was one thing for high command to dictate where a maximum military effort was to be made, it was quite another to also dictate the initial dispositions for the troops involved. Moscow claimed to have a secret weapon. They better have. If the coming battle was lost, there was nothing to stop a Chinese offensive from capturing Vladivostok. Lenowski looked to his left at his EO, or Electronics Officer, hunched over his displays. Captain Tivosk, or “Tivi” as he was called by his colleagues, was responsible for communications and electronic countermeasures, the unseen battlefield that had assumed so great an importance to the wagers of 21st century warfare. Before him he had arrayed three color LCD displays, allowing him to “see” the electromagnetic spectrum in all its complexity. Lenowski grabbed Tivi by his shoulder and smiled. “Any sign of the transmission?” Tivi turned and smiled back, “No comrade Colonel, just that usual damned background noise.” As of late, the Russians began detecting a greater amount of background noise than was usual for the area. Nobody knew why, although some suspected some sort of Chinese subterfuge. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss it. With this equipment I can detect a short circuit at 1000 meters!” Tivi enlarged a display with a flat red band running across it. “Sir, this is the extremely high frequency used by HQ. As you can see, it is flat because they aren’t transmitting, but when they do, this line will dance! I’ll see it the moment it does, you can be assured of that!” Tivi turned back to his screens, intent on keeping his promise to his colonel. Lenowski reclined in his commander’s seat. He had the best corps is the 2nd Army Front. He also had the promise of a new secret weapon from HQ. What could go wrong? As long as his men and women stayed sharp and fearlessly closed with the enemy, he would win. Yet—he still had misgivings. The colonel shook his head and cleared his mind. It was past time for misgivings. All he had to do was concentrate on the objective—the destruction of the enemy forces to his front. He had the troops, the equipment, and the objective. What more did he need? Yes, he would win! Regaining his confidence, he set about rousing his gunner and driver, seated below him and his EO. “Come on guys, stay awake down there, the moment for battle will soon be upon us,” stated Lenowski as he kicked their shoulders with his booted feet. “Correction sir,” interrupted Tivi with a smile on his face, pointing at his EHF display, “the moment is here!” Lenowski looked past his EO and saw that the red band had become a dancing mountain of high energy. The tank was receiving a pencil-thin transmission from a geo-synchronous military relay satellite high above—one of the few that had yet to be destroyed. “Quick, decrypt that message before....” Lenowski cut himself short in mid-sentence as the red band flattened out again. “...the enemy blows the transmitter out of the sky,” he finished with a sigh. “Sir, the look up / shoot up forward sight is detecting an infrared blossom overhead,” reported Granov, the command tank’s gunner. “That would be what remains of the satellite. Doesn’t matter, we have captured the complete signal sir.” Tivi reported with a wink. Lenowski smiled. That signal contained the access codes for the secure land-line connection that stretched from his tank back to South Front HQ, some 25 kilometers in all. The ultra-thin fiber optic cable, sheathed in tough poly-diamonium casing, was a far more secure method of maintaining a continuous communication stream over long distances. And it was a testament to the serious nature of the pending offensive that South Front HQ was willing to use one of their few surviving satellites just to give him the land line access codes at the last possible moment. Security of the pending operation was unprecedented. This better be worth it, thought Lenowski as he watched the EO decode their first set of orders.... * * * * 1. e4 e6 The match was under way. Leng had maneuvered Slova into a French Defense opening. It was an old opening, first analyzed in the fifteenth century by an Italian. However, the line garnered its name from Parisian players who used the stratagem against London opponents in a correspondence game. Slova was wary of the French Defense, as it offered Black good counterattacks. Furthermore, French Defense games could be wildly unpredictable, with play running the gamut from cautious defense to withering gambits. Slova replied with the standard move and encountered a mild surprise. 2. d4 a6 Leng had ventured into an odd sub-variation known as the St. George variation of the French Defense. What was he attempting? Slova glanced at his opponent’s face, but found no indication of his intentions. As expected. Well, he would not allow this unexpected move to disrupt his confidence. He hadn’t prepared for this variation, but then yen you could never be prepared for every possible move, no matter how much you studied the games of your opponent. Slova forged ahead with 3.Nc3.... * * * * Lenowski watched the battle unfold via his 3-D virtual reality display helmet. Unlike ground commanders of old who were limited to binoculars from a fixed point, he could virtually fly over the battlefield as his command tank’s powerful onboard computer assembled a complete picture of the battlefield using all sensory information from every piece of equipment on and over the battlefield. Lenowski watched the opening moments as his cloaked infantry units advanced towards the high ground that dominated the center of the nearly flat surrounding terrain. Their electro-optical camouflage kept them nearly invisible to the enemy, although Lenowski could easily see them advance as nothing of his own forces were obscured from his virtual vision. So far they had met no resistance. “Sir,” called Tivi. “I am detecting massive jamming from various sources, including three high altitude ChiCom ECM drones hovering over the battlefield. I am deploying ECCM.” “Do you want me to take a shot at the drones, sir?” asked Granov? “I can get it with the main gun.” Lenowski didn’t hesitate with his answer. ‘No. We don’t want to give away our position too soon. I’ll let others take care of it.” Lenowski sub-vocalized a call to have a real-time map occupy the lower quarter of his virtual reality vision. A 3-D map appeared, indicating the position of all friendly units, as well as suspected positions of the enemy. As he watched, the command tank CPU highlighted grid squares e6 and a6 as likely locations of deployed enemy infantry. Lenowski, using his specially gloved hands, reached out and “touched” the icon representing the 4th Reconnaissance Regiment that was deployed on his right flank and deposited it on grid square c3. Instantaneously, the orders for the regiment were relayed to Lt. Colonel Restov, acting commander 4th Recon Regiment (Colonel Esrenovich, the unit’s previous commander, was killed three days prior by a ChiCom hunter-killer missile tank that identified the voice pattern of Esrenovich in a burst transmission and fired three tactical nukes—one of which make it through the regiments formidable defenses). Lenowski selected the command frequency for Restov. In a few seconds, the young and haggard visage of Restov occupied the lower right quarter of his vision. “Res, I need you to take out some of those ECM drones. The Coms know you’re coming anyway, no need to hold your fire.” Restov objected politely. “I don’t know about that sir, we are cloaked.” That was the answer of a green commander, which was exactly what Restov was. It was becoming nearly impossible to staff all units with veteran commanders as they died so quickly. In 21st century warfare, unit commanders and their communications equipment were priority targets, finally giving the rank and file soldier an advantage over his officers--- no one was specifically gunning for him. “You can’t cloak an entire mechanized regiment perfectly. Heck, the disruption in the prevailing air patterns alone will give you away. Just do it.” Lenowski cut the comm link. Before long, flashes of coherent laser beams slashed the night sky, cleaving ECM drones in two. Just as quickly, enemy rocket artillery began to fall around the advancing light hovertank recon units of the 4th Regiment, throwing towering geysers of burnt soil and molten rock into the night sky. * * * * 3...Bb4
Move and countermove. Such was the nature of chess. Slova grunted to himself. Annoying bishop. It’s going to cause a wrinkle in his development plans. What was it that soldiers like to say? Ah, yes, no plan survives first contact with the enemy....
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The Chessville
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