The young lady walks into the booth. Despite her quiet beauty, she barely gets a glance from those in the lobby. She's not yet one of the big names.
The officials verify that her assistance addition has been turned off. They're efficient, businesslike, lucky to have a job that could just as easily be done by AI. A small salary is better than no salary.
She finds her table, physically. She had already identified it remotely, of course, before her assistance was temporarily disabled.
She's waiting. Waiting. Her Ukrainian opponent has not yet shown up, but she's unworried about winning with a boring default. After all, the dude has a reputation for partying hard but still showing up.
She's young, so she feels a bit of pressure to perform, not just win, so she's not anxious for a default. I suppose she'll grow out of that.
He shows up just before the clocks are started. He nods, grins, sits down. Quietly, through the unobtrusive lenses, three billion watch, with mild interest. It's okay. Chess has seldom been a big draw.
Position 250 of the possible 360 is picked at random by the overseeing entity. She's assigned white.
She's played the position several times before. She thinks about how best to develop from this starting position, and how best to safeguard her king.
Her opponent touches the clock's touchpad, and time begins to wind down. She thinks of her dad's happiness when first she showed the ability to visualize and reason without the help of the implanted assistant. It makes her calm, despite her opponent's prominence.
She decides to trend toward one of the pseudo-Hippo variations as white. It's a smart move, as is to be expected.
Somebody has to win the forty million Ameros available for the tournament victory. Why shouldn't it be her, even if the government will take most of it, to feather the nests of the connected? If she wins, she might apply for permission to move! And the win will provide some subtle public pressure upon the administrators, who like to keep the public happy since they, too, can be replaced by AI. And who wants to try to live on just the guaranteed allotment?
That's enough for a life of passive gaming and tedium, but nothing more.
If she wins, maybe she'll be able to move! To someplace with altitude. Somewhere away from the teeming camps. Away from the ocean, which nobody trusts despite its belated rising.
The young lady walks into the booth. Despite her quiet beauty, she barely gets a glance from those in the lobby. She's not yet one of the big names.
The officials verify that her assistance addition has been turned off. They're efficient, businesslike, lucky to have a job that could just as easily be done by AI. A small salary is better than no salary.
She finds her table, physically. She had already identified it remotely, of course, before her assistance was temporarily disabled.
She's waiting. Waiting. Her Ukrainian opponent has not yet shown up, but she's unworried about winning with a boring default. After all, the dude has a reputation for partying hard but still showing up.
She's young, so she feels a bit of pressure to perform, not just win, so she's not anxious for a default. I suppose she'll grow out of that.
He shows up just before the clocks are started. He nods, grins, sits down. Quietly, through the unobtrusive lenses, three billion watch, with mild interest. It's okay. Chess has seldom been a big draw.
Position 250 of the possible 360 is picked at random by the overseeing entity. She's assigned white.
She's played the position several times before. She thinks about how best to develop from this starting position, and how best to safeguard her king.
Her opponent touches the clock's touchpad, and time begins to wind down. She thinks of her dad's happiness when first she showed the ability to visualize and reason without the help of the implanted assistant. It makes her calm, despite her opponent's prominence.
She decides to trend toward one of the pseudo-Hippo variations as white. It's a smart move, as is to be expected.
Somebody has to win the forty million Ameros available for the tournament victory. Why shouldn't it be her, even if the government will take most of it, to feather the nests of the connected? If she wins, she might apply for permission to move! And the win will provide some subtle public pressure upon the administrators, who like to keep the public happy since they, too, can be replaced by AI. And who wants to try to live on just the guaranteed allotment?
That's enough for a life of passive gaming and tedium, but nothing more.
If she wins, maybe she'll be able to move! To someplace with altitude. Somewhere away from the teeming camps. Away from the ocean, which nobody trusts despite its belated rising.