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Chessville
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Mirror Mirror - Part Four by S.D. Tortorice
General Lenowski’s XXIII Corps was spent. Nearly out of supplies, equipment, and men, the battle’s end was approaching. As his vision jumped from one point of view to another, the same story was being told: the remaining men and vehicles of his corps were clumping together in last-stand positions. Clearly the ChiComs had the upper hand. While the enemy’s forces were technologically inferior, they were more numerous and were making excellent use of the terrain. With the removal of friendly air support, the odds had swung in favor of the enemy. If the secret weapon didn’t make its presence known in the near future, Lenowski would have no choice but to order a withdrawal and hope they could establish a strong defensive line before the Chinese could launch the inevitable counterattack. * * * *
The newly placed queen rocked from side to side from the violence with which it had been placed on the board. Slova slowly raised his head to look at his opponent. Leng, for the first time since the game had begun, looked rattled. A smile crept slowly across Slova’s face. He now had a decisive advantage in material. Would Leng gracefully concede, or would he force Slova to prove his victory by mating him with the two minutes he had left on the clock? Leng glanced at his clock on the big screen to his right and noticed his advantage in time, an advantage of some 45 seconds. Leng reached for his king: 42...Kxc2 * * * * And then it happened. All electronic systems shut down onboard Lenowski’s command tank. It suddenly became so dark he thought they had been hit and were now dead. Slowly, he reached up and removed his virtual reality helmet and felt his sweaty, matted hair cool as it became exposed to the ambient temperature. Not dead then. “What has happened?” Captain Tivosk was the first to answer. ‘Don’t know. All systems shut down.” Tivosk began rummaging for something in the dark. A click was heard followed by a narrow light from a flashlight. “Attempting to recycle the master circuit breakers,” Tivi added while he focused the beam of light on a bank of switches with red covers. One by one he began flipping them first down then up. “Let’s see if this helps....” It did. Onboard systems powered up and display screens flickered to life. “We seem to have been caught in some sort of weak EMP wave.” General Lenowski frowned at this unexpected development. Then he smiled. So the rumors were true! Quickly he donned his VR helmet to get a look at the outside situation. He was immediately gratified to see that his units had quickly recovered from the EMP wave as well, although he was frustrated to discover that he was unable to access any detailed information concerning their status—clearly, not all the electronics had recovered. But it was what he saw next that intrigued him. The enemy was in disarray. Their orderly and coordinated attack had fallen into shambles. Some units were trying to advance while others were retreating. Many did neither, they simply seemed stunned. Without so much as a command from their general, Lenowski’s troopers sensed the confusion and launched an ad hoc attack to capitalize on their enemy’s confusion. And it was working.... * * * * The match ended.
The largely Chinese audience was in an uproar, but Slova was oblivious to them. With a scant seven seconds left on his timer, he had pulled out a victory. He felt wonderful. And exhausted. It never ceased to amaze him how draining a close fought chess match could be. The mental strain often reached physical reality, something the chess outsider rarely understood. Sometimes Slova could swear that he felt as if he had just returned from the black and white front of some war.... * * * * General Lenowski walked among his troopers, surveying the carnage. Burning vehicles and immobile suits of armor, from both sides, littered the battlefield. The abating snow storm was doing its best to cover the butchery with a blanket of white, but the creeping dawn was undoing its labor by bringing a ghostly light that brought shocking detail to the forefront. Tivi stood next to his commander staring into a ChiCom helmet he had retrieved from the battlefield. Inside could be seen the special electronics package that monitored an individual troopers actions, as well as supplying instructions to the soldier. Never before had a working helmet been captured intact, but when the enemy AI was destroyed without warning, the requisite self-destruct codes were never sent. “This explains the background noise we’ve been detecting. It wasn’t noise, it was a form of electronic communication.” He shook his head with bewilderment. “I can’t believe the Chinese had entrusted command to some godforsaken computer.” “Don’t be so judgmental, Tivi,” corrected the general. “After all, it was this same, ‘godforsaken computer’ did you call it?, that has been steadily grinding us down all this time. The idea of a battle AI is a good one.” Lenowski paused while he considered his next words. “Perhaps the flaw in the enemy’s thinking was that they thought they could replace human command and control altogether.” “Instead of?” asked Tivi. “Instead of using it in conjunction with human commanders,” replied the general. “A computer may be faster, and it can certainly remember more information, but it still lacks human judgment. No AI can ever replace that. At least that is my opinion. And, of course, there is another flaw.” “What is that sir?” “If you kill one human commander another can take his place. Clearly, if you kill an enemy AI, it cannot be replaced so quickly. And that is not an opinion, it is a fact.” A smile suddenly spread across Lenowski’s face like the dawn now blossoming on the horizon. “Of course I suspect our Chinese colleagues are already working to remedy that flaw. It is only a matter of time before another ‘Deep Blue’ meets us on the field of battle.” Tivi didn’t grasp the reference. “Deep Blue, sir?” The general put his arm around his shorter comrade’s shoulder and began to walk with him towards their battle scarred command tank. “A 20th Century chess reference. Which reminds me, I wonder who won the big chess tournament in Qiqihar?” Tivi just shrugged his shoulders, too tired to care. * * * * Major Ivan Frenev sat in the dim interior of his Digger, gently being rocked from side to side as the vehicle wormed its way back to Mother Russia with all haste. All in all, the major was contented. They had achieved their mission with only the loss of one Digger, now vaporized, and roughly 70 men killed or wounded. Entirely acceptable loses. The death of major Chernika was regrettable. It was a testament to the bravery of Chernika that when confronted by a hopeless tactical situation he skipped Phase Catch, the call for reinforcements and rescue, and instituted Phase Shock—fight to the death. He knew that a rescue effort would be in vain, what with the clock running out on the EMP weapon. They all would have died in the effort. So he chose to die with his men, buying time for the others to escape. Chernika would be missed. But he could be replaced. There was always a ready supply of others waiting to prove their metal on the field of battle.... A hiss of static on the Digger’s internal speaker indicated a message from the vehicles pilot. Frenev tensed, expecting it to be a call to action, as he expected every message to be. “Warrant Officer Georgi here. Just thought you men would be glad to know that Slova won the chess championship!” The flat voice continued over the speaker system. “According to the Armed Forces News Net, the game was a decisive victory!” The men surrounding Frenev began to cheer wildly, glad to have something to take their minds off the recent battle. “AFNN also is reporting a battlefield victory near Ussurijsk. No news yet about our raid.” And there probably will never be, thought the major. No matter, he didn’t do it for the glory, he did it for the excitement. As long as the thrill of battle continued to give him a jolt, he would always return to the battlefield. What this said about him, he was not sure. But that’s simply the way it was. Why? Because he was a warrior. And as long as there was a battle to be fought, he would always be ready, willing, and able. It was the warrior’s code. And it was eternal. Frenev calculated that there would be
another two hours before they reached base. He reached under his seat
and pulled out a small, magnetic chess set that he stowed there when they
first boarded the vehicle. “Anybody up for a game of chess?”
Frenev knew that the only way to properly end one battle was to move on to
the next….
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