Computers did not sacrifice, did not send men out to certain death. Therefore a sacrifice was greedily snapped up as a mistake of the enemy. And such greed snapped the trap. One move forced the next, once the bait was taken.

As the theme of the theory formed in the General's mind, he suddenly muttered: "Even exchange will balance a computer's potential—but a series of forced, even-exchanges can distort a fleet's position from optimum.... I never realized it before—an optimum move is not an optimum move—if it's a forced move."

He turned from the board and spoke quietly to the men who stood in hushed groups watching the flaming battle.

"Gentlemen, we are winning a great victory; the war will soon be over."

The door to the computer room toppled outward, frame and all, after several ceaseless hours of cutting. The impact left the hallway of armed men silent and still, like specters in the unreal light from the glowing acetylene torch. Just inside the doorway stood a man, his youth belied by wise and thoughtful eyes, grinding a cigarette under his foot. And as he stepped through the wrecked and twisted door frame not a hand was raised against him.

 Prev. P 6/6