FORCED MOVE

BY HENRY LEE

Wars are won by sacrifice. But computers don't consider sacrifice an optimum move....

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, June 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Snow had fallen in the morning but now the sky was clear and Ruy, with a glance at the frosty stars and a sharp twist of his foot as he ground out a cigarette, stepped out quickly. It was axiomatic. What had to be done, had to be done. A forged pass, with 48 hours of alleged validity gleaming brightly in red letters under the plastic overlaminate was better than no pass. And an outdated pass would wipe away a week's work in the underground.

The sharp, massive gray outline of the Pentagon loomed before him, dark and foreboding against the sky. The brightly lighted entrance through which he must gain admittance resembled the glowing peep-hole into the inferno of an atomic drive.

Ruy's stomach hardened, then exploded in a surge of bitter, stringent gastric juices as the MP glanced at his pass, scrutinized his face, and then turned his attention toward others coming through the entrance.

Ruy wanted to run and hide. His dark blue uniform seemed to shrink tighter and tighter. The misfit must be apparent from the back. The silvery commander's insignia on his jacket weighed heavily at his chest and at his heart. He wished desperately for one fleeting, but excruciating, moment that he were back on his ship, in his own uniform, at the control panel of his computer.

He started off to the right in a seeming trance. The first step had been taken. His many hours of thought, study and planning would carry him from here.

This was the only way. He had repeated the fact over and over. It was an ugly business, but had to be done. Five years of war was enough. Man was on his knees before the invaders from outer space; but they in turn had been too long from home and were near the breaking point. A continued drain would mean defeat for both sides. Ruy could turn the tide, but very probably his life would be the minimum sacrifice.

He had decided his fate long before he left the decks of his ship. Only the belligerent pride of statesmen, and the steadfast belief in the infallability of their 

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