Next morning Sandra heard Dave's guess confirmed by both Angler and
Great. Doc had spotted them having coffee and a malt together and he
and Sandra joined them.
Doc was acting jubilant, having just drawn his adjourned game with
Sherevsky, which meant, since Jandorf had beaten Grabo, that he was
in undisputed possession of Ninth Place. They were all waiting for
the finish of the Votbinnik-Lysmov game, which would decide the final
standing of the leaders. Willie Angler was complacent and Simon Great
was serene and at last a little more talkative.
"You know, Willie," the psychologist said, "I was afraid that one of
you boys would figure out something like that. That was the chief
reason I didn't have the Machine use the programmed openings until
Lysmov's win forced me to. _I_ couldn't check every opening line in MCO
and the _Archives_ and _Shakhmaty_. There wasn't time. As it was, we
had a dozen typists and proofreaders busy for weeks preparing that part
of the programming and making sure it was accurate as far as following
the books went. Tell the truth now, Willie, how many friends did you
have hunting for flaws in the latest edition of MCO?"
Willie grinned. "Your unlucky 13th. Well, that's my secret. Though
I've always said that anyone joining the Willie Angler Fan Club ought
to expect to have to pay some day for the privilege. They're sharp,
those little guys, and I work their tails off."
Simon Great laughed and said to Sandra, "Your young friend Dave was
pretty sharp himself to deduce what had happened so quickly. Willie,
you ought to have him in the Bleeker Street Irregulars."
Sandra said, "I get the impression he's planning to start a club of his
own."
Angler snorted. "That's the one trouble with _my_ little guys. They're
all waiting to topple me."
Simon Great said, "Well, so long as Willie is passing up Dave, I want
to talk to him. It takes real courage in a youngster to question
authority."
"How should he get in touch with you?" Sandra asked.
While Great told her, Willie studied them frowningly.
"Si, are you planning to stick in this chess-programming racket?" he
demanded.
Simon Great did not answer the question. "You try telling me something,
Willie," he said. "Have you been approached the last couple of days by
IBM?"
"You mean asking me to take over your job?"
"I said _I_BM, Willie."
"Oh." Willie's grin became a tight one. "I'm not talking."
* * * * *
There was a flurry of sound and movement around the playing tables.
Willie sprang up.
"Lysmov's agreed to a draw!" he informed them a moment later. "The
gangster!"
"Gangster because he puts you in equal first place with Votbinnik, both
of you ahead of the Machine?" Great inquired gently.
"Ahh, he could have beat Binny, giving me sole first. A Russian
gangster!"
Doc shook a finger. "Lysmov could also have _lost_ to Votbinnik,
Willie, putting you in second place."
"Don't think evil thoughts. So long, pals."
As Angler clattered down the stairs, Simon Great signed the waiter for
more coffee, lit a fresh cigarette, took a deep drag and leaned back.
"You know," he said "it's a great relief not to have to impersonate the
hyperconfident programmer for awhile. Being a psychologist has spoiled
me for that sort of thing. I'm not as good as I once was at beating
people over the head with my ego."
"You didn't do too badly," Doc said.
"Thanks. Actually, WBM is very much pleased with the Machine's
performance. The Machine's flaws made it seem more real and more
news-worthy, especially how it functioned when the going got
tough--those repairs the boys made under time pressure in your game,
Savilly, will help sell WBM computers or I miss my guess. In fact
nobody could have watched the tournament for long without realizing
there were nine smart rugged men out there, ready to kill that computer
if they could. The Machine passed a real test. And then the whole deal
dramatizes what computers are and what they can and can't do. And not
just at the popular level. The WBM research boys are learning a lot
about computer and programming theory by studying how the Machine and
its programmer behave under tournament stress. It's a kind of test
unlike that provided by any other computer work. Just this morning, for
instance, one of our big mathematicians told me that he is beginning to
think that the Theory of Games _does_ apply to chess, because you can
bluff and counterbluff with your programming. And _I'm_ learning about
human psychology."
Doc chuckled. "Such as that even human thinking is just a matter of how
you program your own mind?--that we're all like the Machine to that
extent?"
"That's one of the big points, Savilly. Yes."
Doc smiled at Sandra. "You wrote a nice little news-story, dear, about
how Man conquered the Machine by a palpitating nose and won a victory
for international amity.
"Now the story starts to go deeper."
* * * * *
"A lot of things go deeper," Sandra replied, looking at him evenly.
"Much deeper than you ever expect at the start."
The big electric Scoreboard lit up.