Wargames

by David Bischoff

  PLAY

  ... and then entered it by hitting the “return” button. “Different file, dear boy.”

  Immediately the monitor responded:

  SNAKE

  TIC-TAC-TOE

  HOPSCOTCH

  David typed in: RUN TIC-TAC-TOE.

  Two pairs of intersecting lines appeared on the screen. “What the hell?” General Berringer said. “This is not the time...”

  “No, wait, General, I think I see what he’s doing.”

  ONE OR TWO PLAYERS?

  PLEASE LIST NUMBER.

  Joshua requested.

  The tic-tac-toe grid illuminated the center screen of the big board.

  “You’re in!” McKittrick cried. “Order it to disarm the missiles and cease random function immediately!”

  Major Lem pushed David aside and tried to follow McKittrick’s instructions.

  The tic-tac-toe graphic on the board vanished, replaced by letters from Joshua:

  IMPROPER INSTRUCTION.

  CHANGES LOCKED OUT.

  YOU HAVE BEEN DISCONNECTED.

  The screen went blank.

  “Excuse me,” said David. He typed PLAY. The new list appeared again. The tic-tac-toe game reappeared at his command.

  “You’re going to play it?” McKittrick asked incredulously.

  “You bet I am!” David answered.

  Joshua requested:

  ONE OR TWO PLAYERS?

  LIST NUMBER OF PLAYERS.

  David typed in: ONE.

  X OR O?

  X GOES FIRST

  3 IN A ROW WINS.

  “X in the center square!” somebody shouted up from the floor below.

  “Brilliant strategy!” Falken said. “I say, General, your chaps may have found their calling.”

  “Shut up, Falken.”

  David typed in: X IN CENTER SQUARE.

  An O appeared immediately in a corner

  David played out the game, until all the squares were filled.

  Joshua quickly announced the outcome:

  STALEMATE.

  WOULD YOU CARE TO PLAY AGAIN?

  Someone shouted from the floor: “You can’t win!”

  “I know that,” David said. “But it hasn’t learned! This computer can learn! Dr. Falken says it can learn!” He turned to Falken. “Is there any way to make it play against itself?”

  “Let me see, it’s been years since I programmed that game,” said Falken, perplexed. “Ah yes. When it asks the number of players, type in ‘zero’.”

  David obeyed.

  He took a deep breath and entered his command.

  On the screen an X appeared in the center of the grid. A game filled up the board, Xs shuffling after Os, until the inevitable stalemate. Then the Xs and Os vanished, leaving a blank board, Another game began, this one a little quicker, X after O after X, to stalemate.

  “I don’t understand,” McKittrick said.

  “Surely you’re aware of Joshua’s charm, John,” Falken said.

  McKittrick’s eyes widened. “The integration program, of course.”

  “What?” Berringer demanded, watching as the games began to flash faster and faster.

  “Joshua is a sum total of all of its programs, General,” McKittrick said, eyes glued to the screen. “Like the human brain, it’s holistic.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Patricia Healy.

  still don’t understand,” General Berringer said.

  “All computers have separate systems usually, only peripherally linked,” Pat answered. “General, if you stuck your foot into something hot and got burned, would you touch it with your bare hand?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “But your foot is different from your hand.”

  “I should hope so.”

  “Your CPU... your central processing unit... your brain, has integrated programming too,” Pat Healy said. “What David is trying to do is stick Joshua’s foot in the fire.”

  David was tapping the “enter” key, as though to keep goading Joshua.

  “C’mon,” he said. “Learn, God damn it. Learn.”

  Up on the screen, the battle of the Xs and Os continued on and on, faster and faster, in its flickering no-win loop.

  “It sure is consuming system power!” Major Lem said, glancing at a readout. “It’s going nuts!”

  The screen was just a blur now of white and black.

  “The program must be playing hundreds of games a second,” McKittrick said.

  Major Lem said excitedly, “Look! The random numbers... the launch codes are slowing down!”

  The strobing lights reflected off Paul Richter’s glasses. “It’s caught in a loop,” he said, amazed. “And the loop is forcing it to draw more and more power from the rest of the system!”

  The group watched breathlessly as the wildly flashing lights made the battle floor and command balcony of the Crystal Palace look more like a disco dance floor than the center of operations for a multibillion-dollar defense network.

  David turned to Falken as though for encouragement. Falken wore the slightest trace of a smile.... Which meant there was hope.

  David turned back to the screen. The intensity of the dueling symbols seemed to have increased.

  Suddenly there was a brilliant flash.

  David and the others shielded their eyes.

  The screen went dark.

  “Uh oh!” David said, his hopes falling.

  Giant projections of the Earth, Mercator maps, filled all twelve screens.

  The light show assumed prismatic colors, dazzling the onlookers. The symbols for submarines, bombers, and missiles swarmed over the screen like electronic insects, buzzing back and forth in their crazed, kamikaze dance. World War III between the West and the East ended in a blaze of symbolic mushroom clouds and blasts, leaving huge blackened areas.

  Suddenly the board was virgin again. Bombers swept across the globe in different patterns. Volleys of missiles were launched, impacting in seconds.

  Again the nuclear exchange, despite different strategy, ended in the total destruction of both sides.

  Berringer grabbed McKittrick’s arms. “What’s it doing?”

  David turned to both. “He’s learning... Joshua’s finally learning.”

  The exchange commenced once more, faster. Within seconds the translucent boards were splashes of blazing colors, totally indecipherable, a mass of flashing diodes.

  “A repeat of the tic-tac-toe,” said the general. “I see... but what difference does it make?”

  Suddenly the screen flashed off. The random numbers clicked to a halt.

  “Did it burn itself out?” the general demanded anxiously. “It could still blast those missiles off, you know.”

  The Crystal Palace was totally silent, people watching the blank board for some sort of signal.

  “No sign of activity,” Lem said, looking down at his readouts. “Wait a second, sir. We’re registering....”

  GREETINGS, PROFESSOR FALKEN.

  “Why, hello, you bad boy,” Falken called out to the board, waving.

  David typed in: HELLO.

  A STRANGE GAME, Joshua said. THE ONLY WINNING MOVE IS NOT TO PLAY.

  “And my boy Joshua likes to win!” Falken said quietly. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at General Berringer. “And you, sir. Do you like to win? Let’s hope the Russians do.”

  “Pardon me,” Berringer said, moving toward Colonel Conley. “I’ve got a few calls to make.” He stopped by the colonel and turned around. “Oh, and Falken. You know, you ought to consider resurrecting yourself.” Berringer turned a cold eye toward McKittrick. “I have the feeling that at least one member of our personnel is going to need a little help sorting things out.”

  On the screen flashed more words.

  HOW ABOUT A NICE GAME OF CHESS, Joshua asked.

  “Spot me your queen, and maybe!” McKittrick said, and Pat Healy almost collapsed into his arms, embracing him tightly.

  “David, David, yo
u’re a genius, I love you!” Jennifer said, sitting in David’s lap, arms around his neck, giving him a kiss.

  “Hey, watch it. You might get Joshua jealous,” David said. “And he’s still got the launch codes.”

  Jennifer laughed and boxed his ears playfully.

  “Dr. Falken,” David said, catching the man’s attention. “How good is Joshua at chess?”

  “Oh, not very good, alas. Once a few Soviet masters played him, and beat him eight games out of ten.” Falken suddenly looked thoughtful. “Goodness... I wonder...” he said, gazing up at the map of Russia. “I would suppose those masters are back in their homeland by now...”

  A frightened look flitted across the doctor’s face.

  Meanwhile, down on the otherwise jubilant floor, Radar Analyst Adler went to the first-aid cabinet to get a couple of much-needed Alka-Seltzer tablets.

  All that was left were Extra-Strength Tylenol capsules.

  Epilogue

  Both computer rooms were empty this afternoon. Their doors were wide open. From his seat on the bench outside Vice-Principal Kessler’s office, David Lightman could clearly see the list bearing the password that would allow him access to the Greater Seattle School Computer Network.

  They’d given him his equipment back, somewhat worse for the experience of being taken apart and put back together, but otherwise in workable condition. What with all the confusion before and after this frightening business, he hadn’t had any time to study. If he didn’t do something drastic, he’d get wretched grades this quarter—and not just in biology.

  It would be but the work of a moment to sneak in, take a peak at the six letters, and then scoot back to the bench.

  David smiled to himself. How amusing! It wasn’t even a temptation anymore! Not only was the challenge gone, but he honestly was simply not interested in changing his grades that way.

  Besides, if he got caught crunching any more systems, the FBI had warned him....

  David Lightman shivered lightly at the thought, and dismissed it from his mind. No, better not to dwell on such things. He was lucky he and civilization were still around

  ... and that he wasn’t on the wrong side of a set of bars.

  The highly varnished pine door opened. “Kaiser” Kessler stuck his head through. “Lightman?”

  “Yes, sir?” David said, showing the new smile of respect he had for authority now.

  “Lightman, good to see you.” Kessler gestured in a comradely fashion. “C’mon in here, fellow.”

  David followed the heavy-set man and sat down in the seat of honor. Kessler was already in his own chair, cleaning his glasses with a tissue.

  “Well, now, Lightman. Your first day back, huh?”

  “Yes, sir. There was what they call a debriefing... I.. uh... assume that you’ve been told everything?”

  With a thick-fingered hand, Kessler opened a folder and studied a typed report for a moment. “Yes. Those same agents who spoke to me originally about you paid a visit. They’re quite impressed with you, Lightman, though not entirely in a positive fashion.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “Yes, I dare say you’ve had a bit of a traumatic experience, haven’t you. How did it go with your parents?” “They’ll be okay.” David could not repress a slight smile. “It’s been quite a shock to them.”

  “Do they know the whole story?”

  “No sir, not the part about—” David caught himself.

  “About almost getting blown to kingdom come?”

  “You know about that, sir?”

  Kessler nodded soberly. “Yes, they thought it best to tell one person who could keep an eye on you... and although I suspect they would have liked to tell your parents as well, certain government personnel requested that the full story not be made known to them... for your sake.”

  John McKittrick wasn’t such a bad guy after all, David thought.

  “No, David,” Kessler continued, “only I know the whole story. It was necessary to get you back into school without me still thinking you were a traitor to the country. I must apologize. I said some nasty things about you to the FBI agents. But I’d like to think I know you better now. And I’d like to make amends.”

  “That’s really not necessary, sit I think I’ve learned my lesson. My parents have been very good about it, sir. They’re letting me keep my computer, and they’re going to let me work at that summer job at NORAD that General Berringer got me.”

  “I suppose you’ll learn a great deal about computers there, won’t you, David?”

  “Yes, sir!” David Lightman said eagerly.

  “Now then, in going over your case, I can see that some blame can be placed on our school system....” Kessler gave David a funny look, half suspicious, half awed. “Three people called me personally concerning you in addition to the FBI agents—including a Dr. Stephen Falken. We had a long chat. I mean talk.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed. We’ve been ignoring a great talent, David Lightman. This school has nothing much to offer the likes of you... and that’s our fault. So, I’d like you to know that we are making radical changes in our curriculum to meet the needs of students like you.”

  “You mean... computer courses?” David was astonished.

  “That’s right.”

  “Hands on?”

  “I think we can afford a few Trash 80s or Commodores or Apples and Ataris.”

  “Wonderful, sit I’m sure that a lot of students will really enjoy it.”

  “We’d like you to help out. We’re thinking of starting a computer club. Interested in being our special advisor?”

  “You bet!” David said.

  “Terrific. Well now, I think that’s about it, besides to say how astonished I am by this whole remarkable story.”

  “It astonished me, too, sir “

  “One more thing,” Kessler said, standing up. “I want to show you something. I want to show you that I’m not such a bad sort after all.”

  Nonplussed, David followed the vice-principal out of the office, through the front door to the hallway.

  Jennifer Mack registered surprise as they walked out togethen Kessler’s arm on David’s shoulder in a fatherly fashion.

  “Ah, Miss Mack,” said Kessler “Don’t worry, I’m not going to take him to the Torture Chamber. Come on along. I want you to see this, too.”

  Jennifer shrugged and followed, hugging her books to her chest.

  Kessler took them to the school activities room. Since it was after normal school hours, the door to the room was closed. Kessler took out a key from a jangling chain and opened the door.

  He turned on the light and pointed. “Just over there, David. What do you think?”

  In the corner, right by the Ping-Pong table and the water fountain, stood the familiar yet oddly out-of-place form of an arcade game.

  “If this does well, I guess we can get a couple more, okay, David?”

  David looked at the arcade game, astonished, and then looked at Jennifer. The light of amusement danced in her eyes. She stifled a laugh.

  A Missile Command game!

  “Now, David, I was playing with this thing a little earlier,” said Kessler, jingling through a pocket full of change. “And I just can’t get the hang of it.” He offered David some quarters. “I wonder if you can show me a few tricks of the trade, so to speak.”

  “Uh, no disrespect, sir!” David said, putting his arm around Jennifer and pulling her away, “but I’m giving up arcade games for a while. Lent, you know.”

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Kessler asked, astonished, watching as “Mr. Electric” himself walked away from his favorite computer game.

  “We’re going to be late for our aerobics class!” Jennifer called brightly over her shoulder. She leaned her head on David’s shoulder as they walked toward the door.

  On the way, David Lightman began whistling a certain Olivia Newton-John song he’d become quite attached to lately.

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  David Bischoff, Wargames