John Brunner - The Squares of the City

“Only because the case collapsed, senor. Only because Senor Brown disappeared. I think Felipe was foolish to insist on publication of that attack; still, as I have told you, I have no influence on the policy of Tiempo. I merely believe it right and necessary for there to be counter-propaganda of some sort in Ciudad de Vados.”

“All right, so there has to be an opposition press. I grant that. What I want to know is: must it be libelous and irresponsible?”

“Under the circumstances, it must be as extreme as the law permits. Milk and water, senor, will not tempt readers away from stronger drink. As to Dr. Ruiz—well, his time of reckoning will come. I am glad Felipe did not continue as he had intended, though—otherwise there might now be barricades in the square, and perhaps you would have been knifed.”

She looked down at the chess problem on the table. “Believe me, Senor Hakluyt, I am sympathetic; our problems are not your problems, but they exist. And we in Vados cannot cease to fight our own battles merely because one stranger is involved, to whom we wish no harm. Is that reasonable? Will you agree with me?”

I threw up my hands. “I have to hand it to you, senora, you put up a most rational case. It still doesn’t make me happy about this treatment I’m getting. Just one more thing, though. Are you also acquainted with a man called Jose Dalban?”

Her eyes widened fractionally. She gave a quick nod. “Then tell him from me next time you see him that if he lets out another peep about me I’ll have him hit from so many sides he won’t know what’s happening.”

“Explain further.”

“He’ll know what I mean. He’s threatened me more than once now; the third time I promise to spit in his eye.” I took a deep breath. “Frankly, Senora Posador, I was told it was a tossup who out of you and Dalban, was responsible for the attacks on me. I’ll accept your assurance; from Dalban I wouldn’t take an oath on a crucifix.”

Her voice kept carefully neutral, she said, “I will tell him. If I see him. You must understand, Senor Hakluyt, that again you have preconceptions. It is my impression that you think in terms of ordinary political parties; you mistake the similarities between our government and other governments for identities. There is a president, a congress, a cabinet which as in the Estados Unidos is appointed by the president—but these parties, the Citizens of Vados and the National Party, exist only in Ciudad de Vados. You knew that, possibly. But you did not go on to think that Puerto Joaquin has more than twice so many people as this city, and that our other two large cities, Cuatrovientos and Astoria Negra, combine to make as many people as live here. Beyond that, there is the whole country. It is against the isolation of this city that we fight—against the city as a privileged country-within-the-country. How long have you been here? Three weeks, is it not? This is a struggle that has continued for more than ten years, and in the course of its growth it has struck its roots in every corner of all our lives.”

Her long fingers sorted the chessmen on the table before her. “Almost,” she finished musingly, “it threatens to replace chess as the national obsession.”

I made no reply.

“I think it would be appropriate,” she said after a pause, not looking up from the board, “to play that game I suggested now. In token of our—friendly enmity?” She added the last two words on a rising, questioning note.

I hesitated before nodding. She smiled, deftly concealed a black and a white pawn in her hands, and offered their smooth gold backs to me. I indicated the right one; it proved to contain white.

“Your honor,” she said, and at last lit the cigarette she had kept waiting between her fingers for so long.

Well, she was bound to wipe the floor with me, I thought. I’d never played seriously, and probably most schoolchildren in this chess-mad country would make hay out of any opposition I could muster. Still—I tried pawn to queen four and lit a cigarette for myself.

Queen’s Gambit Accepted: that shook me a little, but I ploughed on, trying to remember the orthodox attack. I soon found that Black wasn’t doing anything orthodox at all, aside from developing major pieces brilliantly. After move eight, I leaned back, cogitating.

“I think I’ve done something rather stupid,” I said. “As far as I can see, I’ve laid myself open to massacre somewhere.”

Senora Posador nodded without smiling. “I regret that you have. This combination of mine was played against our champion Pablo Garcia in the Caribbean tournament last month— it so happened that I was discussing it with him yesterday, and I thought I might try it out.”

“Well, but Garcia is a grand master,” I said. “I suppose this was one of the games he lost.”

“Not at all,” said Senora Posador indifferently. “He won in twenty-seven moves.”

I looked at the board. I was faced with a choice between losing my Queen or putting her back on the home square; either way I got a move behind and lost material in a few moves’ time.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m no grand master.”

“If you will permit, then…” She leaned over and delicately tipped pieces back to restore the position at move four. “I recommend this—you see why, of course. Then as previously; now so, so, so. Then take the pawn, and the situation is altogether different, no?”

“Is that what Garcia did?” I suggested, studying the new setup.

“Oh, no. That is what he decided afterward he should have done. It leads to a resignation by Black in fifteen moves or so. Garcia is a lazy man, he says. He only plays long games when it is unavoidable.”

“Well, the one that was acted out at the president’s garden party in his honor was long enough,” I said. “About ninety moves, I think.”

“His opponent refused the offer of a draw; he was stubborn. Which would you prefer, senor—to continue or start afresh?”

“Let me try again,” I said. “I haven’t played for months, and I never played well. But I ought to do better than that.”

We started over; this time I managed to hang on, and the game went to about forty-five moves before I found my queen neatly trapped and resigned to avoid systematic slaughter.

“Better,” said Senora Posador with clinical approval. “If you would permit me to give you some advice, Senor Hakluyt…”

“Of course.”

“It is a matter of combination. Each move must be seen in relation to the whole. And this applies also in real life. I suggest you consider this point. Good morning, senor.”

And with that final cryptic remark she rose, smiling, and was gone.

I told a waiter to take the chessmen away and bring me a copy of this morning’s Liberdad; having seen Tiempo, I wanted to know how the day’s news looked through government eyes.

As usual, here were substantially the same items in a completely different order of precedence. Almost half the front page was given over to an attack on Sigueiras’s slum, with editorial comment to the effect that now his rearguard action to preserve his notorious public nuisance had failed, the citizens of Ciudad de Vados should take vigorous action to hasten the process of clearing it away.

There was a change of attitude detectable here: almost, I thought, I could discern a note of hysteria. Up till now Liberdad had soothingly been at pains to explain that the matter was in hand and the paternal government would soon put things to rights. Today there was distinct impatience and more than one hint that the government wasn’t doing as well as it should. A heavy black box beside some pictures of the ragged slum-dwellers contained an accusation of the kind I thought was Tiempo’s prerogative here—Castaldo, deputy to Diaz in the Ministry of the Interior and one of the many officials I’d seen talking with Diaz at Presidential House, was supposed to have tried to shield Sigueiras from the long overdue clearance of his human pigsties. What he’d done, it seemed, was chiefly to nominate the substitute lawyer who took over Sigueiras’s case from Brown. Having seen this substitute in action, I couldn’t find that a particularly heinous offense—Sigueiras would probably have got on better with no lawyer at all. However, there it was; presumably, since Liberdad was the official organ, Senor Castaldo was being readied for dismissal.