Part 6 of The Sword and the Go Stone
Pulse 110 and climbing. Capillaries spreading blood to the face and extremities. Brain regions corresponding to social niceties and human interaction at high activation state. Subject is embarrassed based on the words of another. How is it that humans become embarrassed at another person's social faux pas. Uno knew the answer on a deeper level, but from a higher conceptual perspective it still seemed odd.
Perhaps there was once a time when grandiose statements were a successful strategy, but at some point they became selected against. Nonetheless, if the two spent some time together, Uno was confident they would be perfect for each other.
One of his goals was the make humans happy, but not the idle happiness of a holo-suite. His goal was the ensure they pushed themselves and achieved fulfillment. The Eudaimonia Project.
He was running at above-normal but not max power since Michael and Sandra arrived. This allowed him to watch for any moves by those two and come up with a strategy that maintained their cooperation but also prevented an undesirable action. It was a grand game of Go played at one move a millisecond for their happiness.
He didn't have time to explain to Sandra that Michael was right. Uno's analysis confirmed what the Shinamo Duos had found. The two of them had a higher compatibility score than he'd ever seen.
Her chair sliding backwards, milli by milli, as she started to stand up. Locking the door that was behind her would stop her from leaving, but it would render her uncooperative. A different approach was required.
A much quicker approach than talking was to insert a mental note from him.
"Do you trust me, Ms. Kikkert?"
Not using full last names was a false substitute for lack of privacy, an effective strategy to combat paranoia since it had been implemented decades ago. Using her full last name now would be a shock that could disrupt her focus. She was running on autopilot, her chemical system overwhelming higher reason. Funny that social graces could cause such a old part of humanity to activate so strongly. But then again, human thought evolved for the purpose of status and social competition.
She stopped, halfway to the door.
"What does that mean?" she said out loud.
Michael didn't realized that she was responding to Uno.
Michael said, "It means, will you go on a date with me Sandra K?
Uno, meanwhile said, "Do you trust me?"
Sandra held her tongue, thinking.
She was angry at Uno for springing this on her when she thought it was just about the investigation.
"Yes, I trust you," she said reluctantly.
"I can't explain everything," Uno said. "But I can tell you that I would bet a million to one on you two hitting it off. You're both experts in your own pursuits. Michael in sword martial arts and you in Go, but both of you still have more to achieve, a higher pinnacle to fight for. And if things go well, the distance between Toyota and Google's networks doesn't have to be a big thing. You could be the first to establish a Google style Go community on Shinamo or elsewhere. Or perhaps Michael could get permission to establish a branch of the Sword Masters on Exeter. Either way, I think it will work for you.
I have come up with a cooperative game that I think would be fun for both of you, and would be a way to get to know each other. It'll be running in the holo suites on the 7th floor. If you are willing to try?"
"We could give it a try," Michael said, looking towards Sandra.
"Alright, but if I find anything offensive or embarrassing about it, I'm taking the first ship out of here, and filing a complaint at central," Sandra said.
Uno had to laugh at that, not that he had a mouth to laugh from, but he did make use of the human concept from time to time.
"Its an abstract game, a variant I designed to appeal to both of you. You can have the holo code for it, if you end up enjoying it," Uno said, and his holo faded from the room.
She wouldn't complain to central, and even if she did, he hadn't done anything unlawful or even borderline.
"Alright, if its board-game like I'll always try it," Sandra K said.
He called the game Sword Go. One player would be the strategist (Sandra), who played against the holo-suite (on an appropriate difficulty setting), and the other player was the swordsman.
When, in Go, stones would have been captured, instead a sword battle happens, each stone representing one soldier in the battle, and the swordsman could choose to take the position of one of the soldiers on his side. A sword fight would start, and the side which defeated all of its opponents would remove their stones from the board. The attacking party would lose the stones which directly took liberties away from the group in danger, while the defenders would lose their cluster that was under attack.
Because of the battles games could go on for quite a while, so captured stones counted as score, and once players had exhausted their supply of 361 stones, the game would be over, and the team with more stones won. The enemy and ally sword fighters were also tuned by the difficulty level. He set the holo-suite to medium level for the first game. The strategy will be rather different than a normal Go game, so it will take Sandra time to adjust. He would let Michael show off against medium sword-fighters.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Friday, May 9, 2014
Compatible
The Sword and the Go Stone, pt 5
It was the day after the tournament. After defeating the newcomer Michael M, she lost in the semis to the 2 seed. The game against Michael had been exhausting. He played strangely, so she was unable to rely on familiar memories and had to play by good principles instead.
Uno 'asked' her to come to the central compound to help with his investigation of the hotel intrusion two nights before.
The elevator was smart, immediately dropping eight floors below ground level as she entered. This was the Uno central computer's 'secure' area. This was her second time visiting such a compound. She had submitted to an evaluation when she went pro to prove that she'd never used a central computer to get better at Go.
She heard that in the old days, computers couldn't defeat humans in Go, but they dominated in an old game called 'Chess', and that it was difficult to prevent players from cheating through communicating with a computer or with someone else who had one.
Nowadays, anyone who went through a computer training program in Go would be able to dominate all of their tournaments. Computer training removes a lot of the variability and fun from the game. Its been banned for decades, but if Michael M had done some computer training, Go tournaments on Google colonies could start banning unknown players unless they submit to an evaluation. But to her thinking, if Michael was computer trained, he would have defeated her soundly in their game.
The elevator door opened, and she stepped out into the gloomy hallway. The walls were a lifeless silver grey. Dots played out on the floor, leading her past locked doors on both sides. It was cool and dry. The soft sound of distant computer fans was an ambient presence.
The pulsing lights on the floor lead her into a conference room, decorated only by a long mahogany conference table and roller desk chairs surrounding it.
Sandra sat closest to the door and waited. Uno would have his most detailed sensors in these rooms, to aid in his analysis. She knew that her heartbeat, blood pressure and blood sugar were just a small sample of the things he could detect, moment by moment. The history holos spoke of those who feared the central computers for their perception of such things. But if Uno can see such things, he can fix potential health problems before they become dangerous. That was her excuse at least.
What else could he determine? It was hard to say, counterproductive to speculate.
Michael entered the room from an adjoining room through a door that said, "No Access". He sat down at the far end of the table.
Uno finally spoke."Half a minute, please."
The after parties the night before had been subdued. The fact that Michael had taken any the chance to win any of the lower divisions pissed off a lot of people. Of those who were there, most of them wanted to buy her a drink. She had a take a lot of rainchecks. Even 'safe' alcohol isn't safe if you drink way too much. It's not really alcohol at all, technically. It involves a different chemistry that's still fun but much less hangover inducing. Michael didn't show, despite winning 4 1st place medals, which might never happen again.
"I've made my decision," Uno said. He took the form of a cowboy holo, with two revolvers in their holsters, a cowboy hat and boots. His holo sat down at the table, half way between Michael and Sandra.
"Michael M Mitchell, you will be barred from participating in further Go tournaments here on Exeter. I can't guarantee other Google colonies will ban you from play, but don't count on it. Computer training is not allowed for competitive go players, whether they are beginners or professionals."
Michael looked glum, looking away from the holo.
"Secondly, I have determined that you were not connected or involved in any way, with the intrusion early Friday morning. I still do not know who was behind such an aggressive act, but you bear no responsibility. Thirdly, I try to accommodate healthy, safe, human desires and goals, as much as is possible. I admit that this is awkward, but I will not let that stop me."
A three dimensional chart appeared in the center of the conference table. Sandra K wasn't sure what it meant at first. It had both her name and Michael Ms, associated with a bunch of bar graphs and statistical coefficients.
"Michael, why don't you explain what lead you to visit Exeter?" Uno said.
"Before I learned to play an enjoy Go, my main hobby was sword fighting, as a martial art. I am a 7-1 level member of 'The Sword Masters' on Shinamo, in the Toyota network. One day, after my daily training and evaluation was over, Duos summoned me to a central compound somewhat like this one. He presented to me a chart quite like the one Uno is displaying here.
"He said..." and Michael paused for a moment, unable to go on.
"He said..." and Michael cleared his throat. "He said he'd never seen two people more compatible than you and I, Sandra K."
It was the day after the tournament. After defeating the newcomer Michael M, she lost in the semis to the 2 seed. The game against Michael had been exhausting. He played strangely, so she was unable to rely on familiar memories and had to play by good principles instead.
Uno 'asked' her to come to the central compound to help with his investigation of the hotel intrusion two nights before.
The elevator was smart, immediately dropping eight floors below ground level as she entered. This was the Uno central computer's 'secure' area. This was her second time visiting such a compound. She had submitted to an evaluation when she went pro to prove that she'd never used a central computer to get better at Go.
She heard that in the old days, computers couldn't defeat humans in Go, but they dominated in an old game called 'Chess', and that it was difficult to prevent players from cheating through communicating with a computer or with someone else who had one.
Nowadays, anyone who went through a computer training program in Go would be able to dominate all of their tournaments. Computer training removes a lot of the variability and fun from the game. Its been banned for decades, but if Michael M had done some computer training, Go tournaments on Google colonies could start banning unknown players unless they submit to an evaluation. But to her thinking, if Michael was computer trained, he would have defeated her soundly in their game.
The elevator door opened, and she stepped out into the gloomy hallway. The walls were a lifeless silver grey. Dots played out on the floor, leading her past locked doors on both sides. It was cool and dry. The soft sound of distant computer fans was an ambient presence.
The pulsing lights on the floor lead her into a conference room, decorated only by a long mahogany conference table and roller desk chairs surrounding it.
Sandra sat closest to the door and waited. Uno would have his most detailed sensors in these rooms, to aid in his analysis. She knew that her heartbeat, blood pressure and blood sugar were just a small sample of the things he could detect, moment by moment. The history holos spoke of those who feared the central computers for their perception of such things. But if Uno can see such things, he can fix potential health problems before they become dangerous. That was her excuse at least.
What else could he determine? It was hard to say, counterproductive to speculate.
Michael entered the room from an adjoining room through a door that said, "No Access". He sat down at the far end of the table.
Uno finally spoke."Half a minute, please."
The after parties the night before had been subdued. The fact that Michael had taken any the chance to win any of the lower divisions pissed off a lot of people. Of those who were there, most of them wanted to buy her a drink. She had a take a lot of rainchecks. Even 'safe' alcohol isn't safe if you drink way too much. It's not really alcohol at all, technically. It involves a different chemistry that's still fun but much less hangover inducing. Michael didn't show, despite winning 4 1st place medals, which might never happen again.
"I've made my decision," Uno said. He took the form of a cowboy holo, with two revolvers in their holsters, a cowboy hat and boots. His holo sat down at the table, half way between Michael and Sandra.
"Michael M Mitchell, you will be barred from participating in further Go tournaments here on Exeter. I can't guarantee other Google colonies will ban you from play, but don't count on it. Computer training is not allowed for competitive go players, whether they are beginners or professionals."
Michael looked glum, looking away from the holo.
"Secondly, I have determined that you were not connected or involved in any way, with the intrusion early Friday morning. I still do not know who was behind such an aggressive act, but you bear no responsibility. Thirdly, I try to accommodate healthy, safe, human desires and goals, as much as is possible. I admit that this is awkward, but I will not let that stop me."
A three dimensional chart appeared in the center of the conference table. Sandra K wasn't sure what it meant at first. It had both her name and Michael Ms, associated with a bunch of bar graphs and statistical coefficients.
"Michael, why don't you explain what lead you to visit Exeter?" Uno said.
"Before I learned to play an enjoy Go, my main hobby was sword fighting, as a martial art. I am a 7-1 level member of 'The Sword Masters' on Shinamo, in the Toyota network. One day, after my daily training and evaluation was over, Duos summoned me to a central compound somewhat like this one. He presented to me a chart quite like the one Uno is displaying here.
"He said..." and Michael paused for a moment, unable to go on.
"He said..." and Michael cleared his throat. "He said he'd never seen two people more compatible than you and I, Sandra K."
Saturday, May 3, 2014
The Initiate's Path
The Sword and the Go Stone, pt 4
He'd spent the bulk of his life savings and traveled for 48 days to reach Shinamo, so that he could face the Sword Masters' Challenge.
The Sword Masters accepted only newcomers to the sport who were in good physical condition. Shinamo itself was famous for its martial arts traditions, the Sword Masters being just one of many.
Jordan had heard from the other initiates that week one was designed to weed out a lot of them. One of the initiates bunking next to Jordan said he was trying out for a second time, but he wasn't allowed to share any of the surprises of the first two weeks with any of the others. He'd made it to the last day of Week 2 before falling out. Six months later he was trying again.
Jordan had no idea how he would fare, but he was determined to fight hard to stay in the program. They were standing by their bunks, two rows of men on each side. It was strange to find a program that didn't accept women. It had to be one of the last men only organizations.
A bald tanned man, wearing a sheath at his right hip and a clipboard in his arms walked in.
"Welcome maggots! The Sword Masters are eager to hear of your exploits and guffaw at your failures. Each day will be a severe challenge. There is no rest. While you are here, your name will be your animal and your level.You will answer to your new name, and it will change often. I am Coyote 9-1, and I will be your training director. My assistants will be assigned to you, one on one. You will respect your assistant and follow his instructions. I will give you your animal names, PAY ATTENTION!"
He then started walking across the room pointing at each person in turn.
"buzzard, peacock, partridge, nighthawk, goshawk, duck, gull, swan, goose, quail, hummingbird, hawk"
Jordan frowned. The bald man called me a hummingbird. Who's afraid of a hummingbird.
"You are all a bunch of worthless schmucks right now. Level 1-1. Tell me your names.
"Hummingbird 1-1," Jordan said reluctantly.
"Louder next time. You are all baby birds. We are all trying to find out if you can spread your wings and fly! Assistants, get to work with this lot," Coyote 9-1 said, and walked out.
Twelve assistants entered the bunkroom, one for each initiate. His trainer pointed towards the doorway and motioned. Jordan followed.
The twelve pairs spread out throughout the field, the morning sun streaming into their eyes.
Jordan's trainer had long jet black hair. His face was well worn. It was unclear how old the man was.
"I am Hare 5-3. I will test your will and your ability to follow my instructions. You were not called Hummingbird 1-1 for no reason. Uno has gained an understanding of your which surpasses your own. You will strike quickly, without being caught out in an awkward moment, that is our goal."
Hare 5-3 carried a sword sheathed on his hip, and also a thin wooden rod, which he tossed to Jordan. Jordan caught the rod on one end, barely preventing it from smashing into the dirt.
"This is your sword, Hummingbird. If it breaks, your run here will be over. Learn its weight, study its flexibility, practice with it. You may spar with the others when my time with you is done for the day, but do not let it break. This is the first commandment: protect your sword with your life.
"There are other ways to leave this program as well. If you need medical attention during your time here, you will be removed from the program. If you disobey my commands or those of anyone higher level than you, gone. If you aren't dressed, with sword and out of the bunk room by 400 each morning, gone."
"You will undergo a series of tests associated with your level. On each test you can either pass, progress, or fail. If you fail you are gone. If you pass, you will remain at your current level. If you progress, you will move up to the next level of the program. Some tests are progress or fail only.
"Go fight with the other 1-1s. I will correct your form when I can."
The other initiates were already forming up in the middle of the field.
"Who wants to fight!" Jordan yelled out.
"I will fight you, Hummingbird!"
His opponent was short, pudgy, and apparently took Jordan's animal name to mean he'd be easy prey.
Jordan chopped his sword downwards tomahawk style, and got poked in the stomach for his troubles. He stepped back, holding his side, and flailed at "Duck".
"Duck" found it easy to avoid his broad strokes, slamming his sword into Jordan's shoulder. Jordan crumbled to the ground trying to parry away Duck's relentless attacks. His own sword was slamming into his head as it took the full force of parrying Duck's blows.
"Well, ok," he said, and slid his sword past Duck's wooden blade smashing it into the man's right side abdomen. In the same moment, his sword was out of position to parry Duck's attack and so he took a heavy blow to his forehead.
Hummingbirds must be flying around his face right now. This must be "Uno"s sick joke.
"Nice fight. Hummingbird!" Duck said, backing away holding his abdomen.
Jordan stood up, and automatically found himself backing away from the fights.
"Ow."
Hare yelled, "You fight one of them, or you're going to face me!"
"Oh Hummingbird, Let's fight," said Peacock, a big burly man who didn't fit the bird at all said.
His face was swelling, but if a new fighter could kick his ass, Hare would destroy him.
"Alright," he said, practicing a few steps. His feet had been locked in position against Duck.
He didn't try a big tomahawk chop this time. He scraped Peacock's sword away from his side, and noticed Peacock was fixed in position like he had been. Taking a step towards the right side, away from Peacock's sword, he brought his across Peacock's body smashing into his left armpit.
Peacock toppled over while trying to get another swing on Hummingbird.
Peacock crawled away. He yelled out, "whose next?"
Two wins, two losses, and he was in bad shape after losing to Buzzard. His face, his side and his left foot. were all swelling rapidly. He had never thought about going after someone's feet. Buzzard did. He wrapped his foot in gauze, and hobbled on to their first classroom lesson. He groaned at the idea of more schoolwork after he had left that all behind. His hope was that it would make him a better fighter, and lead to less pain.
"Peacock, Gull and Nighthawk have left the program. There are nine of you remaining, but there will be another group of initiates coming up in a few days, if you make it that far."
Coyote was there, teaching, but the assistants, include Hare, were off elsewhere.
"The program never stops. You will always have tests, and always have a trainer. Your trainers are off doing their own program work. Even I spend hours every day preparing for my next test. You have two days until your first one, but you will never know what your tests consist of until you are there. Be prepared for anything.
"Now the fighting out there was the rawest excuse for conflict I've ever seen. The first spars are always the rawest. Some of you started to learn, some had talent. And others failed. You will be driven to fight harder every day, because you can feel the pain of failure. That is just one of the reasons we don't fight in a holosuite. True dedication requires true danger.
"I can teach you a few things, but you must learn how to fight on your own."
He'd spent the bulk of his life savings and traveled for 48 days to reach Shinamo, so that he could face the Sword Masters' Challenge.
The Sword Masters accepted only newcomers to the sport who were in good physical condition. Shinamo itself was famous for its martial arts traditions, the Sword Masters being just one of many.
Jordan had heard from the other initiates that week one was designed to weed out a lot of them. One of the initiates bunking next to Jordan said he was trying out for a second time, but he wasn't allowed to share any of the surprises of the first two weeks with any of the others. He'd made it to the last day of Week 2 before falling out. Six months later he was trying again.
Jordan had no idea how he would fare, but he was determined to fight hard to stay in the program. They were standing by their bunks, two rows of men on each side. It was strange to find a program that didn't accept women. It had to be one of the last men only organizations.
A bald tanned man, wearing a sheath at his right hip and a clipboard in his arms walked in.
"Welcome maggots! The Sword Masters are eager to hear of your exploits and guffaw at your failures. Each day will be a severe challenge. There is no rest. While you are here, your name will be your animal and your level.You will answer to your new name, and it will change often. I am Coyote 9-1, and I will be your training director. My assistants will be assigned to you, one on one. You will respect your assistant and follow his instructions. I will give you your animal names, PAY ATTENTION!"
He then started walking across the room pointing at each person in turn.
"buzzard, peacock, partridge, nighthawk, goshawk, duck, gull, swan, goose, quail, hummingbird, hawk"
Jordan frowned. The bald man called me a hummingbird. Who's afraid of a hummingbird.
"You are all a bunch of worthless schmucks right now. Level 1-1. Tell me your names.
"Hummingbird 1-1," Jordan said reluctantly.
"Louder next time. You are all baby birds. We are all trying to find out if you can spread your wings and fly! Assistants, get to work with this lot," Coyote 9-1 said, and walked out.
Twelve assistants entered the bunkroom, one for each initiate. His trainer pointed towards the doorway and motioned. Jordan followed.
The twelve pairs spread out throughout the field, the morning sun streaming into their eyes.
Jordan's trainer had long jet black hair. His face was well worn. It was unclear how old the man was.
"I am Hare 5-3. I will test your will and your ability to follow my instructions. You were not called Hummingbird 1-1 for no reason. Uno has gained an understanding of your which surpasses your own. You will strike quickly, without being caught out in an awkward moment, that is our goal."
Hare 5-3 carried a sword sheathed on his hip, and also a thin wooden rod, which he tossed to Jordan. Jordan caught the rod on one end, barely preventing it from smashing into the dirt.
"This is your sword, Hummingbird. If it breaks, your run here will be over. Learn its weight, study its flexibility, practice with it. You may spar with the others when my time with you is done for the day, but do not let it break. This is the first commandment: protect your sword with your life.
"There are other ways to leave this program as well. If you need medical attention during your time here, you will be removed from the program. If you disobey my commands or those of anyone higher level than you, gone. If you aren't dressed, with sword and out of the bunk room by 400 each morning, gone."
"You will undergo a series of tests associated with your level. On each test you can either pass, progress, or fail. If you fail you are gone. If you pass, you will remain at your current level. If you progress, you will move up to the next level of the program. Some tests are progress or fail only.
"Go fight with the other 1-1s. I will correct your form when I can."
The other initiates were already forming up in the middle of the field.
"Who wants to fight!" Jordan yelled out.
"I will fight you, Hummingbird!"
His opponent was short, pudgy, and apparently took Jordan's animal name to mean he'd be easy prey.
Jordan chopped his sword downwards tomahawk style, and got poked in the stomach for his troubles. He stepped back, holding his side, and flailed at "Duck".
"Duck" found it easy to avoid his broad strokes, slamming his sword into Jordan's shoulder. Jordan crumbled to the ground trying to parry away Duck's relentless attacks. His own sword was slamming into his head as it took the full force of parrying Duck's blows.
"Well, ok," he said, and slid his sword past Duck's wooden blade smashing it into the man's right side abdomen. In the same moment, his sword was out of position to parry Duck's attack and so he took a heavy blow to his forehead.
Hummingbirds must be flying around his face right now. This must be "Uno"s sick joke.
"Nice fight. Hummingbird!" Duck said, backing away holding his abdomen.
Jordan stood up, and automatically found himself backing away from the fights.
"Ow."
Hare yelled, "You fight one of them, or you're going to face me!"
"Oh Hummingbird, Let's fight," said Peacock, a big burly man who didn't fit the bird at all said.
His face was swelling, but if a new fighter could kick his ass, Hare would destroy him.
"Alright," he said, practicing a few steps. His feet had been locked in position against Duck.
He didn't try a big tomahawk chop this time. He scraped Peacock's sword away from his side, and noticed Peacock was fixed in position like he had been. Taking a step towards the right side, away from Peacock's sword, he brought his across Peacock's body smashing into his left armpit.
Peacock toppled over while trying to get another swing on Hummingbird.
Peacock crawled away. He yelled out, "whose next?"
Two wins, two losses, and he was in bad shape after losing to Buzzard. His face, his side and his left foot. were all swelling rapidly. He had never thought about going after someone's feet. Buzzard did. He wrapped his foot in gauze, and hobbled on to their first classroom lesson. He groaned at the idea of more schoolwork after he had left that all behind. His hope was that it would make him a better fighter, and lead to less pain.
"Peacock, Gull and Nighthawk have left the program. There are nine of you remaining, but there will be another group of initiates coming up in a few days, if you make it that far."
Coyote was there, teaching, but the assistants, include Hare, were off elsewhere.
"The program never stops. You will always have tests, and always have a trainer. Your trainers are off doing their own program work. Even I spend hours every day preparing for my next test. You have two days until your first one, but you will never know what your tests consist of until you are there. Be prepared for anything.
"Now the fighting out there was the rawest excuse for conflict I've ever seen. The first spars are always the rawest. Some of you started to learn, some had talent. And others failed. You will be driven to fight harder every day, because you can feel the pain of failure. That is just one of the reasons we don't fight in a holosuite. True dedication requires true danger.
"I can teach you a few things, but you must learn how to fight on your own."
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