Greystone Part 3

Pod 101 was once again in a ready-stage for me to enter. Sure I had been confident the night before, but I had the jitters now, as I entered.

As I closed the pod and turned the Divine Secured Ring one full turn, I tried to grasp the whole stream and control it, and I was battered for the effort. Instead I was helplessly watching as endless missiles of data were barraging me.

I had planned to track time inside, but that was lost immediately. Instead, I redirected information, receiving some, reflecting others, and dodging still others. Only some of the information seemed hostile. The originally insanely fast rushing river became a river which was dangerous in part, but acceptable in part.

The increasingly calm recognition of data allowed a basal recognition that there was me, and then the pod itself. But my model was disturbed when I realized the data about me implied there was another human inside the pod. Various bodily auto-systems reacted beyond my ability to provide contrary output. 

I recognized the distinction between regular internal systems and the modified internal reports that were being provided to me now. My body was transmitting information to me that said it was in a special operating mode. It pursued such states automatically as a function of it's operator eigenstate.

I couldn't factorize such vast matrices yet, so I didn't know any compressed representations, beyond the self / other factorization.

I couldn't get a grip on all of the data, there was still so much that was unknown. Time passed and I recognized a return to the normal self-state. 

It was easier this time, to recognize that I should turn the Divine Secured Ring counter-clockwise one turn. It's nature produced informational patterns of a remarkably different nature than anything else.

My senses were not yet fully transformed back as I saw but did not understand in a connected way. I went to the shower, following memory-data.

I had experienced something, which awareness could not connect to my automatic human system. It was just dawning on me that the experience was an informationalized response to sex and that kind of bodily desire.

My body had responded without any restraints, just as it had before, but this time my bowels were kept together, it was that other part of my bodily function which had been unleashed.

My automatic systems of both desire and guilt, and control of desire, they had not perceived or been in control during the incident, so I didn't have any shame, merely confusion. The bodily sensations had gone away before I left the pod, I didn't feel any of them now. Perhaps only a latent satisfaction.

I had put on a clean uniform several times before. It's use as a protection from desire and display was minimized. I must be receiving training to control that type of desire response.

The team member on call when I returned from the shower told me to go clean the pod. He was the same one who had told me to clean it up before.

I momentarily reacted when I entered the pod with cleaning supplies, and saw Blue Beaver completely naked. The sensations faded within ten seconds. She stood there perfectly still as I envisioned the original automatic sensation response, and then recognized the informational content, associating the one with the other. The automatic replaced by the informational.

 "Remember, practice returning to your automatic response. Cut the linkage with the informationalization." Blue Beaver said.

Minutes later, when I had succeeded in recovering the automatic response, it was almost too much to handle. I managed to be both recognize it's presence, process it, and then return to transforming the automatic into information.

The cleanup was quicker this time, but Blue Beaver agreed to stay for an hour before she had to go get in uniform. That let him trigger and de-trigger his automatic system response.

After the training session and Blue Beaver's shower, she invited him to go for a walk. It was good that his automatic system had been not just suppressed, but mastered. He was embarrassed that he had such a reaction.

"Usually we find someone on the team who the candidate will have a Lascivious Desire response to. Unfortunately, that was me," she said. "So I had to delay my mission by a day. Men don't do as well in this test as women. Your automatic system is more controlling on this issue.. But you will do better in a later run."

"I assume I need a new superior?" I said.

"No. I made the call on you, Green Eagle. You're my probee. You aren't exhibiting, suppressing or hiding Lascivious Desire, you truly have informationalized it, both temporarily and making good progress on a permanent basis."

I was glad that there would be no wedge between us. Since she must be a fully informationalized being, it wasn't a worry from her side. "I'm glad I don't have to worry about those automatic responses."

Blue Beaver spoke, "Don't become a 2nd stage suppressor, Green Eagle. You've only dealt with two automatic systems, so your other systems are trying to overcompensate. Romantic relations are still a possibility. Other members of Greystone become this time of wakened beings, just at a much later stage in their training. We're talking post-expert. When you have reached the end of the primary development program for the Black Team, you'll be able to pursue such things from a reasonable position."

"You think I'll  make it?" I asked. There were surely harder tests ahead, although I couldn't conceive of what they would be.

"Read the chapters of all your books, on Lascivious desire," she said. "It will help more."

 

If you want to speak of automatic systems, Lascivious desire was at the root of human history, along with disgust, being the two oldest.

The books talked about how modern society didn't control such things, but merely mutated them and caused both horrors and deprivations. The automatic system controlled something which was not as of itself, always bad, but it's responses were particularly inefficient and overpowering, especially for men.

It was uncomfortable reading, which I suspected was because of the other automatic systems I was still unquestioning about.

 

Blue Beaver was out on a week long mission when I went into the Pod for a third run.

While I entered the pod and controlled the missiles of information quickly, I had to contend with sudden hyper-speed attacks. These data-points were fast reacting. I had to recognize the need for such reaction. Damage was occuring to part of my internal system. I was able to divide my informational world into skin-surface, internal, and external

The attacks were happening at the skin-surface layer. I devised scripts to handle skin-threats quickly. The skin was essentially a protective layer for whatever wanted to pass into the body. If it was hostile it must be stopped and reacted to there.

I only spent 3 hours in the Pod this time. And I was able to clean and store away the needles and hot pads and other items I identified as causing touch sensations.

The automatic reaction system I was working with was our skin or touch sense reaction to a hot surface, needle, electricity, etc.

I was rather confident when I reported into to the team member on call.

"I cleaned up everything and put it all away," I told him.

"Put your hand on this globe," he told me.

It was metal, so I expected an electric shock, but instead, it was a pins and needles and agonizing heat all in one.

I pulled my hand away, and the experience was much worse, but the informationalization started.

I recognized that my hand needed to be on the globe to prevent any real damage. the signal being sent was designed to cause no harm but cause the auto-touch response to activate wildly.

"Work with this until you can turn on and off your touch automatic perception."

I could see that this one was a bad one to leave off, unless I could write a script to respond more effectively. Which I guess I could, with some training.

I worked with the touch perception device until I could readily turn on and off the automatic perception. i would have to work with Blue Beaver on the script.

I felt like I was scripting in the pod, but out here int he world I couldn't perceive how to do it.

After I had completed my practice and my reading on touch perception, I got more advice from one of the team members.

"You've completed the junior league, probee. Start with the really strong automatic systems. But next, you'll have to expose yourself to the stronger Room 102, in order to work on the mid-tier automatic systems. Go mingle with your fellow Candidates, walk around and realize that you are already completely unlike them."

 

So I did. My touch sense was proven in that I didn't react, upset when someone bumped into me in a crowd.

Everyone else I saw did, except one elderly man who must have been an Elite or Elder member.

Loud sounds still startled me. That would be fixed someday, I was sure of it.

 Most people didn't look at my badge and simply said, "Senior Brother," even a Full member called me senior.

 I acknowledged them little. I was senior to the plain Candidates, but many of those around me were Senior Candidates like I was.

Appearance didn't matter. I recognized, and I could partially toggle Lascivious Desire, but it didn't move me anymore, since I had seen and become familiar with the informational content.

I recognized that there was a group of new members that I once would have called stinky, but I didn't really care now.

I ate dinner in the cafeteria with hundreds of other younger members. While it didn't bother me much, I craved a return to the Systematics building and Black Team.

There was another new member of the Black Team talking with Purple Bear. I had been told some of their names now that I was out of 101, and no longer in the first start of the induction program.

I waited two days for Blue Beaver to get back from a mission. I didn't have anything to do except re-read the first three chapters of my books.

Had the Black Team reorganized the books according to our training scheme, or was this a common order to tackle. I thought of the Black Team as a special operation, doing things at the state of the art, and only our people could handle this.

The new girl was still in 101 when I went into the lab to talk to Blue Beaver.

"After 96 hours, we'll give medical care, and hope for the best, but she won't be part of the team at that point, even if she lives."

They had put me through that? When they knew it could cause death?

"Previously, you went through exposure training in 101, and then the subsequent tests in the lab. Each automatic response was it's own exposure and lab. Now, in Intermediate Beginner. You will be exposured to multiple sensoriums and automatic responses, and then you will use the Trial system to face the automatic response and learn to master it, both muted and unmuted.

Turning the Secured ring clockwise, exposes you to vastly more information, thus overriding the automatic responses and forcing you to perceive the actual information which is available, when your automatic responses are not in control. 101 is the most effective sensory deprivation chamber in this part of the world, so that the volume of information is tolerable. It is almost totally information about your own body and the pod chamber.

Now, in 102, you will receive a small fraction of the information which is available in the outside world. Vibrational information, through the bottom of the pod contacting the floor. Electromagnetic information through a 99.9999% effective filter, which leaves just that remaining portion getting through to you. And there are other kinds of information which are much reduced but you will now start to see them. Your informational model will smash apart, and you will have to reforge it.

For the first 8 hours, you will just be dealing with that, and afterwords the sensations affiliated with 3 automatic responses will be presented to you.

Greystone Part 2

 When I woke up, my thoughts were occupied by the strange dream that was fading away. Unlike the lab, the rooms here had a large window. It was night.

We were receiving countless streams of data from the cosmos, every second of every day. We had always received endless streams of data from the cosmos.

Even though it was 2 am, another unfamiliar member of the project was having breakfast.

There was a shelf in the kitchen with boxes, each marked with a sign. The one I went to said: "Breakfast bars. Supplements for Info-Nutrients."

I took two.

"You'll want a half bar for now," the team member said.

He was scrawny, fit but tired.

"I never expected my first day to be so eventful," I said.

"You jumped ahead of the other new candidates. You weren't highly sought after before, but now, you'll find that your intuitions are more effective. That's just the first run's after-effects."

"Why can't you guys bid higher on new candidates?" it seemed like the team had a secret super-power, they should be getting all the best people.

"High wash out rate. You already made it through the first 50% cut off. At this point, there's half a chance that you will end up as a useful member of the team, half chance you'll leave."

"Am I doing another run today? I asked.

"Hit the books today. grbeaver is out on mission, so go to whoever is on call."

The team member waved and left.

The half breakfast bar did not fill me up. I resisted and saved the remaining half until I knew what these bars had in them.

There were a few people about at that time, I shared an elevator with a young member of some other Systemics team. She went a different direction as I headed towards the Black Team lab.

 On call was yet another team member.

"Before you get to reading, I need to teach you one thing."

There was a tin, who knows what it contained. The on call person put the tin near me, and opened it.

 The small was devastating, but just for a moment. Then I knew what my nose was receiving but it didn't affect me.

"You are already capable of responding to attacks. Our ability to receive everything as information is our greatest strength. But you don't have to wait for the attack.  Focus on the horrible smell, after all, you did experience it for a second. Then picture the latter seconds of the exposure, when you contextualized smell as just information. Now visualize a connection where one substitutes for the other."

I didn't realize that the team member had opened the tin back up again. Or rather, a quiet part of me noted the presence of certain molecules but I couldn't yet associate such knowledge with the old sensation and reaction. My old reaction was gone.

"First try, that's good! There's a cleaning closet, go ahead and clean out Room 101. This technique I just gave you can be extended to things which are disturbing to any of our senses or automatic systems."

I had succeeded in completely turning the smell into information as I opened up the Room 101 pod. For a moment I reaction to just the appearance and the sound of my shoes as I walked in to the pod.

I had to spray down the pod, and then let the water and everytghing it collected go into a bucket. The bucket was dumped into the septic. There was a special tube which could be unsealed to dump the bucket into the same placce toilets went.

Logically I knew I had lost control of my body during my time in the pod, and what I was cleaning was my own grossness, when I had lost any moral or respectable concern for myself. I had not yet studied enough to understand the actual literal information my brain was provided.

After I had cleaned up the pod, and taken a shower to clean up myself, and put on a new uniform, I went back to the team member on duty.

Had I been working on this so long? It was another woman team member who was on duty now.

"Good. We didn't tell you but we consider the cleaning effort to be Run 1 1/2. But you can't clean very effectively right now, without your automatic responses. To stop the informational effect from taking hold, and return to natural human responsibility, adjusted by your acculturation to the system, think again on that link between the dry and inhuman informational truth, and the human and very illogical auto-reaction. Think about discarding or cutting off that truth, and convincing yourself that your eally do think bad smells are disgusting. Use that disgust sense."

Unlike detaching from human responses, re-acquiring them took me hours. The gradual return to human base functioning made me feel uneasy, but I couldn't identify it until once again the tin was opened.

"Go clean up  Room 101 again, and yourself. Turn your automatic human responses to sense data on and off. Practice returning to the digust priors, as you struggled with that."

I fought my desire to shut off smell as I truly cleaned the pod this time. I used the full set of cleaning products in the closet. Each time, I cleaned up a bit, and then shut down my senses and returned to the recognition of disgust. It took all day, but I could return to a sort of human baseline in a few minutes.

I suspected even this return to normality was not really true normality. I became less affected by my senses and the disgust response.

Eventually, after I could detect no unpleasantness in the pod, I returned to myself, and thoroughly scrubbed and cleaned every part of me.

I had just started reading the first of many books on the secured e-reader that the on-call team member provided me.

My cell phone had been unsecured, so it was one of the things we were all told not to bring. I couldn't contact anyone on this e-reader anyway.

The book was called: Human Automaton, and it was about how the human had automatic responses that controlled more of the behavior around us than we realized. Just like my personal journey on Black Team had started with controlling disgust, the book started with that. His assignment was to read and understand that section. Once his training covered the other responses he would go back to reading about them.

Initially tasked with controlling poison and dangerous foods and substances, disgust had been brought into a fundamentally social place. We had an automatic social response, which was often denied in so-called polite society.

Blue Beaver returned from her mission after I got half way through the section on disgust.

"I didn't expect to be reading this kind of thing," I told her.

"You've experienced the first taste of what this team is about. We become informational beings, but without training in how our body responds, we become horrible people. You think you've got disgust under control but there's still many more steps to go. 

Our body's automatic system is always acting. There are many things we have to learn to establish, as we replace that system."

It was a weird systemics, but I guess it was systemics after all. "Don't you become an empty husk after you've pulled away the human?" I asked.

"You'll find a new desire to define yourself in a way that isn't contingent on biological circumstance. Not about what neighborhood you were born in, or what you look like. It's about who you really are when no automatic system is pulling you along. Let's get dinner, you haven't eaten since breakfast."

They actually left the Systemics building. I thought the team members never left, but they must have for missions.

"I assume I'm not ready to know about what missions you all go on?" I said.

As Blue Beaver lead me around the monastery, she replied in part. "Everyone tacitly assumes that all physical action is decomposable from all computing action. A simple weather station proves them wrong, but the inter-connection between Systemics and the physical work of the Monastery is profound."

She actually lead us off the monastery property itself, and to a restaurant in the neighboring town which depended so much on Monastery customers for it's existence.

"It's like this town. Your assumption is that the Monastery's influence ends at the property line. The truth is that this town is deeply intertwined with the Monastery in the web. Nothing is a complete graph Green Eagle. Nothing is unconnected either."

I got it. "I was worried about paying for dinner."

"How mortal of you," she said. "But you aren't worried now."

"I was guilty, but I realized that I was assuming this business was separate and independent, therefore it needed this financial API." 

"The missions," she said, "we don't have to take them, from an outside point of view, and yet we do."

It was a very homey meal, I didn't order or chose my meal, and we walked outside after we were done.

"Is there something you noticed about that meal?" she said.

"It seemed really bland," I admitted. There wasn't a lot of flavor too it.

"But outside standards, that was a very flavorful meal, but you've begun to retrain your automatic response to smell and taste. Every time you flipped from recognizing your senses to recognizing information, you weakened those paths. In the end, meal bars are all you will want. Just preserve function, and provide brain specific supplementation."

 After we walked about for a bit, she lead me back to the systemics building. 

"You've gone just a half step into the room, Green Eagle. Most often, that's where the initiate thinks they've achieved enlightenment. After a day of reading tomorrow, your second run will challenge that thinking. Prepare yourself to be stretched in unexpected ways."

 

I was really thirsty, when I woke up. That dinner must have been salty. Breakfast bar (just a half), and water. I sat and read the rest of the Disgust part of Human Automaton.  There was another book called Independence and Dependence: Clearing the Cobwebs, which seemed to go to the things which Blue Beaver had talked about.

Only the first chapter was unlocked for that book as well. I read a dozen books that day, and always just the first chapter or two. These books seemed to be oddly structured. They talked outside view, big-picture stuff, and they talked about the things I had already experienced myself. They didn't take one step into the unknown which I faced tommorrow.

I had half of the bars marked "dinner" for dinner, and went to sleep. Reading all day had somehow taken a lot out of me.

o o o 

"It's quite clear, you have to be the one to do it."

"Uh, really?! I wasn't even naturally that way to begin with."

"But you chose to return that way."

"It was economically wise. Fine. But one of you is handling final stage."

Greystone Part 1

 I was part of the group of new arrivals from local High Schools, but we were all mixed together with the other newcomers. It was a long hard road for both me and my parents to become valedictorian and get the invitation to join the Greystone Monastery.

 I knew that there were experts or star people admitted directly into a more advanced and specialized program, sometimes apprenticing to an Elder immediately. What little I knew, was that I would be apprenticing with someone who was only a few years into the system themselves. Maybe if I got lucky I've be picked out by a Mid-career monk after a while.

Today our clothes clashed as we mixed. Valedictorians like myself were wearing school jackets and jeans while the existing membership wore grey uniforms, each one with their name and the name of their master. Others wore long robes of several colors, or even uniforms of other organizations.

The monastery was not built on some mountain as the fables talk about, but in a series of clearings between heavily forested areas. The existing members passed the admittance building by, heading down forest trails to the other parts of the monastery complex.

There were three lines of newcomers. The line of provisionals was very fast moving, and the experts were the smallest group, but seemingly the more time consuming to processed. My line was in the middle.

 There were no rusty Monastery gates here, just a brutal brick building with lines for crowd control. Only the elders got the manors with gates, I supposed.

The lady at the desk at the end of my line looked up and I passed my acceptance packet over, with everything filled out. I knew my preferences were only looked at, and there were many other considerations on the Monastery's part. I might end up having to focus in a different area than I wanted: crafting would be interesting, but battle studies unnerved me. I had seen a few combat specialists out of the monastery. Those people were crazy!

"Your superior will be Junior Monk Red Beaver of the Systematics Division. Your identifier is Blue Eagle, Candidate. Please refrain from using real names inside the Monastery and during Monastery missions. Next!"

There was a split here as the three lines formed into groups of people headed to all of the buildings throughout the complex. The provisionals were all headed one way but everyone else was split up, and I followed the color-coding. Silver markers showed where the trail headed to the Systematics building weaved and winded through the trees. Each marker was on a post or sometimes on a tree itself, but I had to double back twice to find my way.

Soon the only people I saw were a few others headed to Systematics way in front of me. One an expert, and another who was perhaps a candidate.

When I caught sight of the building, I wanted to inspect it's network room right then and there. I saw several people sitting outside with gray tablets. There were little nooks around the entryway area, but also I saw that they continued around the large building.

It was three stories tall and larger by footprint than my school building. Walking in, I was intercepted by several Juniors.

"Black Rabbit?" asked one of them. I shook my head. 

"Orange Squirrel?" another said.

Furthest back was the person I was looking for. It was a woman? I thought they stuck within gender for superiors. Men leading men and women leading women.

"Green Eagle?" asked the young lady who was my superior.

"Blue Beaver," I asked in return.

"We'll get your uniform later this afternoon, there's a lot of systems to get you checked through."

She immediately started walking towards the elevator, quickly.

She had a ring on every finger of her left hand except her ring finger and thumb. They flashed were both colorful and occasionally he thought her heard a sound coming from them.

He had to rush to get into the elevator with Blue Beaver.

"I'm in the middle of a transitional assignment, to determine if I can join the Full Member trial. If you are good at learning fast, you can help, I'm only going to tell you this stuff twice, and then it's your responsibility."

He was being dropped straight into a distracted Junior's hands. He hoped he could pick things up quickly.

"This is one of the two times. You're going up to the 5th floor---"

 "What, there's only three stories on the outside."

"Appearance is not reality. Especially not here Green Eagle. Did you think Systematics would take you away from the reality warping? You were mistaken. On the fifth floor, you must sign up for your accounts and systems in the order I tell you. First, get your system identification, Second, Divine Secured Ring, Third, Divine Battle Ring. 4th, VPN, you MUST get the Hardened VPN in our department. Fifth, Trial System registration. Sixth, Mission System registration. After that, find me ont he third floor. I will be out on mission, but I'll be at my desk."

This did not make sense, but he didn't dare confuse what she had said. He recited her instructions like a mantra.

 The identification station was easier. Room 1 on the fifth floor. My name for all networked purposes was not Green Eagle, but greagle.cand.blackteam@greyteams.cul. When connected, I would use that moniker/identifier.

I had to argue with the lady in the Divine Ring department. 

"What, a candidate is getting all this."

She wanted to give up and reject my claim, but I guessed my superior's id when I told her that blbeaver.jr.blackteam@greyteams.cul had requested it.

"Jesus, don't mention her again,"

I got my Divine Secured Ring and Divine Battle Ring quickly after that.

What they were, I didn't know.

I spoke my superior's id again at the VPN desk to get set up with a hardened VPN. The monastery worker took my secured ring and did something to it, to provide the hardened VPN. Similarly, in a mysterious fashion, the Trial system and Mission system were loaded on the ring.

It was like an ID card combined with a usb flash drive and security dongle, and more, but I couldn't conceive how it worked.

I got looks from some of the people I passed on the way back to the elevator. Were they candidates or provisionals themselves?

"Are we going to get that?" some candidate was whispering to another.

The third floor was home to many of the labs of the monastery's Systemics building. These were fancy computer labs, but they had more weird equipment than just that. Whereas the other labs he had walked by could have passed for school labs, if you didn't look closely, blbeaver.jr.blackteam@greyteams.cul's lab was painted completely black, and there were no windows inside. 

Only a dim light lead her to Blue Beaver. No one else was in the lab, although she could tell there were a few offices around the outer square of the lab.

The only sound was the sound of my sneakers against carpet. It was weird that the lab didn't have tile or a firm surface like labs were supposed to.

As I was about to speak, Blue Beaver shushed me with a finger. I stood there, silently, in the dark. My two rings were completely dark and silent, but I could tell Blue Beaver's were providing a light and sound show again. There was a sudden burst of high pitch sound, and then she seemed to respond to the environment more. Clapping her hands, the lights turned on in the office room they were in.

"Are you familiar with sensory deprivation rooms?" she said.

"Vaguely," I said. I wasn't sure the connection between them and Systemics.

"Our project group: Black Team, is pursuing a different path than the majority of systemics, and the majority of the Monastery. You will be training in a sensory deprivation chamber more effective than anything imagined by the outside world. As the rookie, you will train in the best chamber, you'll need it. Just be careful, Room 101, as we jokingly call it, costs more than you can fathom. I hope you don't have a habit of fiddling with rings, it's extremely dangerous to operate your Divine rings on accident. Even the team leader wouldn't risk such a thing. When the Room 101 seals behind you, rotate your Divine Secured Ring clockwise one full turn."

 "How long should I stay in there?" I asked.

 "You'll lose sensation of time almost immediately. Once you've oriented yourself turn the Secured ring counter-clockwise one full turn. That will stop it from functioning. Room 101 is designed to respond to the ring's term signal. You'll be able to exit then."

"How long?" I asked, insistently. What had I signed up for?

"Roughly 48 to 72 hours. We'll have a little party for you when you come out, but go to the bathroom first. You'll be responsible for cleaning the deprivation chamber after use, but you can give yourself a day before you tackle that. Better get started."

 Room 101 wasn't really a room at all, but a massive globe up on stilts with a portable staircase going up to it. Room 102, next to it, was also a globe, only slightly smaller, but touching the ground, and without the floating isolation unit.

I went into Room 101, climbing up, and then slightly jumping in. I bounced, falling backwards. The globe's hatch closed with a simple click, and I heard a hiss which quickly went away. My eyes were adjusted to Blue Beaver's office lights.

I took a deep breath and turned the Secured Ring clockwise, 1 full turn. As I turned, I got an increasing feeling like I was experiencing a revelation of God or something. I recognized that everything I had ever known and looked at was wrong. I looked on creation with fresh eyes that received it's raw signal. 

It was so much! So So much! My terminal session was flooded with a server who was transmitting terabytes of data per second. Immediately I ran top and closed out everything non-essential. The network portions of the system were needed, that and the kernal support behind, and the memory and disk subsystems to persist and recall and organize what was received.

I immediately mmaped a large space on disk where the input was coming through. The output was focussed on small protocals that modified what was received. There was a compression assumption. An organization trick which would allow the incoming data to be stored in a vastly more efficient fashion.

But there was this data and that data there that didn't fit in the neat boxes. I had to start over.

Start Over. Start Over. Start Over.

The information you get can change. I tried a few commands, using regression to estimate what would minimize data transmission from the remote. Phase polarization came into importance then, as well.

Finding all of the output I could provide with any kind of meaningfulness. It's correspondence in input.

I was a floating body of information and affordance. The information was rushing towards me in fast and tolerable bullets. My body shook and quivered with the extent of information. Occasionally there was a super bullet, and I activated my special shield, which cut me off from the useful bullets long enough for the deadly kind to pass.

On and on I went with these bullets. But I realized something was breaking down on the inside. I needed to get out.

Deciding it was neccessary, and devising an algorithm for doing so were two different things.

While dealing with the bullets, devising the method, watching the resonance, I observed the pattern present within, and eventually things changed.

"Eighty hours," there was a source socket and informational packet along with acoustic data.

"Go clean yourself up."

This packet came from an unknown sender. Automatic systems were coming online, and they guided you to the flow salutizer. Thermal energy accompanied the gradual reacquisition of all auto systems. Their high-filter factor removed most of the useful data, but provided regularization.

"Sh-ow-er -- Shower"

 He had a hangover once. Never wanted one again, but this was worse. His brain refused to relate the matters which had occurred in the chamber.

Smell was one of the last things which came back to him. He cleaned a few places where it warned him.

The water was cold now. He used the towel to make a humidity exchange between it and his body, reducing the convective cooling effect. The new uniform was carefully placed out for him.

"Senior Candidate
 Green Eagle
 (greagle.srcand
.blackteam
@greyteams.cul)"

The grey uniform fit nicely, and when I went past the pod again, I didn't smell what I expected to, but the pod was marked with a padlock and a note: Out of Order, Cleanup duty greagle.

"That was a close one Green Eagle," said the new person he had seen when leaving the pod. "Blue Beaver had recommended you as her first choice among the incoming candidates. Our choice bid is low because few make it through their first explosion. We were lucky that no one wanted to bid higher for you."

"Do you need to do some kind of psych profile to know if I'm ok?" I asked.

"You recognized that something was wrong physiologically, even though all of your instincts were turned off and you have never been trained in the field. You perceived the raw informational flow and recognized the problem. You devised the solution despite being completely unaware how the most basic elements of physics work. Our instincts possess common sense physics. You lacked that. You were adrift in a sea of information vaster that you've every imagined, inside a sphere of sensory deprivation that provides 10^-40 the normal sensation. Normal instinctual and para-mental responses were gone leaving your exterior person exposed to raw information."

Blue Beaver said to me, "The second pod will be ready for you after you can survivor 3 turns and exit the pod in 10 minutes. Your first experience was just 1 turn of the reality ring. It will be at least a dozen sessions before you can try two turns of the ring."

"Your team barracks are on the 7th floor. Just touch your Secured Ring to the elevator controls."

I had achieved lucidity long enough to respond to the group, but I barely remembered going up to the 7th floor. There were three beds per room, and I crashed into the Candidate room, where no one was sleeping. I wasn't sure what time of day it was.

I slept hard.

Michael M (Exeter and Shinamo pt. 1)

He was resting. He had already used ice, and now he soaked in a hot bath to recover from the intense fight. Fight days with Challenge-master Shin B were painful, but totally worth it.

While his body recovered, his mind contemplated the way Shin B constantly got the advantage even if he managed to get a few strikes in. It wasn't physical, most of the advantage was mental. Shin B had always fought the top of the heap, the winners of the winners. It was the only fighting he did. Before Michael, there was Julio P.

There was a new initiation to do this afternoon, and then supervising one of the more exciting mid-level fights: 4-4 Sadie Q, the highest ranking woman in the program, against 5-1 Rod R. He hated having any electronics at the Sword Master's Challenge, but being the 2nd ranked member of the program meant he did all the real top-level work of coordinating the challenge.

The SMC allowed only a beeper with a short code display. COMAI was what flashed by his beeper display. If you needed to communicate with the outside world. you could always go to the Compound AI which ran the facility and did a lot of the tracking behind the scenes. It was very stripped down compared to the Arcade and Simulator AIs of his youth, but there was a lot of coordination work with higher authorities, and tracking health and mental health that the AIs did even here.

He dried off, looking at the cut marks and scarring left even after the battle healing machine had processed his injuries. You can wear tough cloth and leather, but fighting at the intensity of a Shin B battle meant using the healing machine was required every time. The pain sharpened things, made it more real. It made the mental battle more activated.

And to be sure, the strategic and tactical dance of a battle between two experts was exciting. Many challengers came from supposedly realistic combat simulators, and wanted to experience the real thing, and learn to enjoy real battles against other good fighters.

The Sword Master's Challenge was based on challenging your betters until you replaced them. There was a "permanent" tier, for everyone who had learned enough to become a teacher in the program. Worlds 1, 2 and 3 were the funnel into the higher worlds where there was no time limit, but expectations and responsibilities instead.

There was plenty of interesting fights from World 4 up, but after battling Shin B for three years, nothing else could compare in interest and intensity. Shin B warned him, that he was getting too cautious and defensive, but the best approach he could find after 150 challenges was a style that mostly dealt with Shin B's attacks and looked for opportunities.

 Michael M had his sleek fighting outfit, which he hung in the World 8 locker-room. Theoretically, they could have multiple people at World 8, but based on the reality of the size of the project, Michael was the only person at World 8, thus the only person using that gym.

The juniors had lockers and mostly fought outside on the spacious lot of the SMC. He passed two World 2 challengers sparring, and nodded to a world 5 challenger.

Michael personally made an effort to get to know everyone at World 5 and up. 4s were changing on monthly basis, as some people got responsibilities, and decided it wasn't for them. They still thought of real work as being the AI's job. Some people couldn't handle the higher level of fights and bailed out, and some had reached their goal and decided to quit.

 It was an accomplishment to get to world 4. There were other groups and challenges for sword fighters. Mostly SMC was known as the toughest. It was contested, but Michael still remembered the brutal difficulty of his transition. He had tried and failed the SMC the first time. Initiates had three chances to try to get in, waiting a year after the first try, and two years after the second.

He waited 2 years after his first try and made it on his second.

The boxy AI building was deceptively small for the massive AI computer systems. The rest of the Compound AI was underground, and much of the 200 acres of the SMC was underlaid with computing, or cooling systems for the AI. The SMCs compound AI had been upgraded three times since it was founded. Originally it had an Uno, a singular AI which ran everything, but then the three-headed Compound idea was put in, and then the Compound AIs were upgraded and expanded.

The holograms of the three AI's visual representations, or precepts, appeared when Michael opened the door to the compound.

In a compound AI, each of the three AIs takes a stance which affects their consensus decisions. For SMC, there was Cloud, the Sword excitement concept character, Dan, the Monastic concept character, and Tina, a replacement for the old third character who represented Sony network efforts to be more inclusive in these kind of competitive groups.

 The rumor was that every time you meant a compound AI, you would relate to one of the three best. While he had originally been fondest of the Sworder Cloud, his years of trials and effort made Dan his most relatable AI. 

 Dan spoke up first, "We have something a little unique to present to you Michael."

Dan was wearing robes similar to Michael's own everyday wear. Cloud wore a sleek outfit and carrying his huge holographic sword as they lead Michael into the center of the compound, where the VisScreen and communication interface was at.

 Michael sat down at the table in the central room. He thought maybe they had a special initiate or group of initiates for the SMC. It had happened before.

Dan motioned to the giant vizscreen which filled the space in front of them.

 A picture of a large room with many people seated in pairs across from each other. The screen changed to the same type of square grid with a woman's voice speaking.

 "This was an aggressive move.  Jin W thinks Donn B won't handle the defense in this type of position very well. He has seen Donn's battle in the League Final."

There were scattered snapshots of something on screen. Some were about these squares, others were food and cooking related. Nothing seemed to relate to him.

"I'm going to bring one of Shinamo's cores into this conversation, but it's truly a Corporate level conversation. The very top, Michael, so we ask for complete discretion," Don said.

The view screen was replaced with a visual of the Shinamo colony headquarters with one of the AI personality cores, represented by a business suited man.

"Sony corporate has made an unusual outreach effort towards Google UK corporate, regarding collaboration between our specialized colonies. They settled on Shinamo as the Sony corporate colony representative, and a colony called Exeter as the Google UK representative. These images you saw were from Exeter.

"While Google UK as a whole choses a more tech-minimalist path than Sony network, their perspective matches Shinamo quite well. However, their main colony New London, is so large and with so many interests and pursuits that we cannot map it well, but one of their smaller, more focused colonies in Exeter.

"Exeter is a retreat and a community involved in a competitive activity called Chess. This is the activity with the squares that you noticed. Exeter also has a community focussed on food, but we are looking at the pairing between colonies because of Exeter's chess.

The cultural differences mean instead of dozens of different micro-communities with very different standards, Exeter has a monolithic chess community, but with local hubs where people meet together. Exeter does have rapid transportation, but they have banned all use of small electronics, and only use computing power by connecting with the colonial AI. This is true even in New London.

Exeter is extremely strict about this, and monitors even for biologically induced cheating. Biomorphs have been detected before."

Michael was bewildered about why they were telling him all of this. "How do I come in?"

"You grew up on a main-world, and then decided you didn't want that life, and within eight years, you've rise to the top of the strictest competition on the most hardcore colony. Corporate proposes to send you to learn chess and rise to the top on Exeter. If you can do that, it would help Sony network establish a middle ground between the Arcade addicted main worlds and the minimalist fringe worlds. It would have a very good and positive impact on our worlds."

"Why would I want to leave what I love behind for that? Sitting down all the time?"

Michaek stood up. He had the right to go where he wanted, and he didn't want to leave Shinamo.

"Michael," said Dan. "You are stuck. You have lost your creative improvement against Shin B, but you can't escape the competitions. You know what I mean. You've started to get bored, but you are hanging on to the memory of the best times. It won't last forever. It's time to move on and face a new challenge."

 "Think about it," the Shinamo AI core said. "Exeter has very smart chess players, but they don't have the intensity of focused constant challengers and duels. We are willing to help you understand how to take sword-fighting understanding and bring it into chess."

 . 

Later that night, in bed, he swore. "Damnit! Why are they right."

He trusted Dan, and Dan deflected his hopes. The AI never got it wrong. He was in a rut. He was mourning the incredible excitement he'd had when actually engaging in the impossible fights like they were possible.

He went back out to the AI compound. It was late, but they ran always.

Dan greeted him at the door. "Whatever you need to do," Michael told him.

 .

Officially, the Sephiroth was just making a few cross-network hops to Exeter and New London. Unofficially, it was beginning a steady route between Shinamo and Exeter which would mark the beginning of the sister colonies program.

A past SMCer was onboard. Aesril L. questioned him. She had boarded at their last stop before leaving Sony space. Several of their pickups at Shinamo had debarked at Aesril L.s homeworld.

"Why Chess?" she continued. "I've never heard of it. No one has ever heard of it. There's a thousand challenges you could try, even the super-hardcore fighting games."

 "I wanted to experience something different. I've heard a bit about Exeter's culture. Maybe I'll stay a year and make it a sabattical," Michael said. Obviously he wasn't going to share Corporate's top secret info.

"Well, I suppose I should wish you the best. But you'll be missed. Who could find a trainer like you. I mean reaching 6-1 to even be eligible for your training was a very grave challenge"

They were in the Sword Fighting arena onboard Sephiroth. Real sword fighting, real medical recovery bots

Aesril L tried her Tier 6 tactics, was rebuffed by his parrying, foot work dodges, push backs and leans, following by unambitious counterstrikes.

"My full repertoire was for the Grandmaster," Michael M said.

"That's why you only counter-attack now?"

"I don't want you to be in med-bay when we land," he said.

After three more sound defeats, Aesril L had enough. She brought up the video screen projector.

"Grandmaster battles playlist 17," she said to the projector. "I kept accumulating your fights with Shin B."

"Really," he said. He didn't know how to think about leaving the fights with Shin behind.

It was shocking to see the blur of activity between him and Shin B from an outside perspective. The video recorder used couldn't pick up all of their movements as they dashed around the indoors Elite Challenge ring. Sword cuts and manuevers on both sides were rapid fire.

"You've slowed down a bit since then," Aesril L said.

"I can't fight like that unless I'm in the zone. Having fought two or three warm up rounds against Shin B. After sparring with him for 17 months. Training with him for 6 months before the spars started.

"You developed a defensive style because attacking style was insane against him," she said. "You become a great spirit of sword fighting when you face Shin B. And he's always been a great spirit. Why did you agree to leave this behind. It's almost religious to watch it, yet alone be part of the art."

"Dan showed me how I was getting into a rut. He's such a tough opponent you can push your art in the wrong direction just to handle Shin. I wasn't going to stay at that level forever."

Aesril said, "If you become as good at Chess as sword fighting, I fear for Exeter's competitors." she said.

After a few hours of Sake and toasts to the old days, they headed separately to sleep. Sephiroth would be arriving in the morning.

.

Between his birthplace, which was filled with lights and music at every hour, and his transplanted home, which was very strict with removing technology and reacting to that arcade ascetic, he saw that Exeter was somewhere in between.

The colony AI building was fancy, and yet muted, with only simple lights and plain walls. He arrived and immediately took the tram-way over to Exeter's AI (called UNO), and her custom's system.

UNO was a non-descript, rather plain looking woman, in her precept form.

"Sephiroth's landing documents declared you as interested in joining the Chess community. Is this correct?" UNO asked.

"Yes. I want to learn the game, and I'm taking a break for a year or perhaps longer from my old pursuits," Michael said.

"In order to join our community, I need to reach a similar level of confidence that you have not violated our competitive agreements, that I have with people who have grown up in the Google UK network. This may take a while, are you willing to go through this examination?"

"Yes," he said. Why would he leave everything and not be willing.

"First, I'll do a detailed scan for prohibited electronics. All personal electronics is prohibited."

Michael wondered what they used when people needed to communicate, if they couldn't have any electronics. With the colony itself not even having a Compound AI, they seemed very primitive here.

The scan felt tingly, and lasted for a few minutes straight.

"Now, I'll set you up to play a few games of chess against calibrated computer opponents to estimate your Letter classification and statistical profile of play. Just go into the next room."

 Michael recognized the table with the squares and pieces from the video he had seen before. There was no chess on Sephiroth since it was something unknown to the Sony network, so this would be his first experience beyond rumors and heresay.

"The pieces are AI controlled, and maneuvered, but you can physically took and move them. The chess table system will walk you through how to do this if you are unfamiliar," UNO said.

The board suddenly moved so that all the pieces had rearranged and the black holograms were in front of him in two rows. He thought he saw how the squares were on that video.

He tried to take one piece in each hand, both hands grabbed nothing.

The table chirped and spoke with a higher voice than UNO. "You may only move one piece at a time. Except in practice mode, after you pick up a piece, you must make a move with that piece, unless all moves with that piece are illegal. Please choose one and only one piece to pick up."

He picked up the piece in the back row with the jagged crown.

"Queens cannot move through any square occupied by another piece. No legal moves are available for the queen in this position, because c8, d7, d7, e8 and e7 are all occupied by your pieces."

When it started spouting letters and numbers at him, he was clueless. So he picked up a smaller piece in the front, and pushed it forward just a bit.

"When you release a piece, it must be release in a manner that makes it's destination square clear. If the computer system is unable to determine what square you meant the piece to be on, it will force you to move it. Consistent ambiguity as a B class or higher rated player is subject to censure."

He nudged the piece so it fit neatly in the square.

Michael noticed how one of the white pieces had already been moved out of the neat two column layout. Now another white piece jumped over the other small white pieces.

The piece looked kinda like a video game horse. The table chimed at him. "Your turn. Be reminded, your clock will continue to run. In evaluation mode, game time is set to 5 minutes plus 5 seconds per move after the 40th move. Your clock has 2 minutes and 12 seconds remaining.

He tried to move that horse-like piece, but the game yelled at him, so he moved those little pieces forward, but then he got stuck and the board wouldn't even let him move them.

"You are in check! You must make a move to remove your King from check."

He didn't even know what piece was his king. How was he going to live up to Shinamo Compound AI's expectations if he had no clue what he was doing.

Finally, the table spoke up: "Black loses on time against C class bot."

UNO spoke up again, "Anyone can lose on time at first. Let's have the table AI show you the super-basics and then try a thirty minute game."

 So the king was the piece with the sort-of plus sign. It had to be protected like your body in sword-fighting. The one piece really was the knight and it could do leaping tricks than no one else could do. And then all of the other pieces.

 He moved, and made mistakes in terms of the rules several times, but more often than not, he had a legal move. He still got smoked, because he was at pre-1-1 levels of understanding what he was trying to do.

 "Use my brain, use my brain", he said.

UNO changed the bot to one that would help him understand the weirder side of the rules. "Mostly we want you to learn chess from human tutors. Exeter is designed to be a community with people spreading the community with other people. I'm just a facilitator."

 Sounded like SMC.

 The whole concept was weird, in terms of what and how, but the competitive idea made it clear this was something you could have a Sword-master's challenge in.

"Your rating will be marked as provisional because neurologically, your ability is widely variable, and you could improve faster than my normal systems update. You are near peak A-class, provisional. I would expect to see you in B class in a few weeks, and C class in a couple of months, if you participate in activities frequently. Currency conversion has completed with our Corporate overseers, so you have 1200 points available. There is an escrow cost for joining Leagues to ensure that people don't join and then leave right away without consequences. You will be expected to participate in Smart Pairings on Tuesday, including tomorrow, unless you officially leave the Chess community, or ask to be on Semi-Regular status."

 "Thank you UNO" he said. He had learned the 6-year old's intro to Chess. Just like a 6-year old with a toy sword, he wasn't ready to do anything, but he had to get out there and participate. The currency rate was AWFUL. Only 1200 points for his 730 million Sony points! Wow!

.

This place was huge for Chess! Between organizations on Shinamo there was miles of wilderness, that was part of the charm. There seemed to be city and suburbia here on Exeter. Chess was everywhere, however. There was residential areas, as he looked out the window of the car that was automatically driving him. Chess Centers, of course. Signs for those were frequent.

Food and Chef centers were also common, and occasionally other clubs and activities, as well as a utilities and official colonial business.

When the auto stopped at his new local chess center, he was able to just talk to the car, and it took him to the League signup. The Leagues had their own Chess centers just for league play, and the closest one was only a few miles from his Local.

There was a hand-written schedule. He was sure UNO gave everyone electronic schedules as well, but the rustic feel was cool. It said:

 Letter Leagues: Schedule by Classification
 A : Monday 8 am - 10 am
 B : Monday 10:30 am - 12:30 pm
 C : Monday 1 pm - 3 pm
 D : Wednesday 8 am - 10 am
 E : Wednesday 10:30 am - 12:30 pm
 F : Wednesday 1 pm - 3 pm
 G : Thursday 8 am - 10 am
 H : Thursday 10:30 am - 12:30 pm
 I : Thursday 1 pm - 3 pm
 J : Thursday 3:30 pm - 5:30 pm

 An actual person was there to sign people up for leagues. He had a chess table at the front desk, and he appeared to be playing against the computer like Michael had been doing. There was some position on the board nothing like he had seen in UNO's building. Only a few pieces were on the board.

"I'm here to sign up for the Leagues," Michael said.

"There is a 1 point fee that will be returned to you if you complete a full league season. We want people to be able to rely on their opponents being here for their matches, so you will forfeit the fee if you miss a league day."

"Ok, how do I pay?" Michael asked. One point was barely anything at all.

"I just talked to UNO, your signed up as long as you approve the point being transferred to the league fund."

"I approve."

"Ok good Michael. You are signed up for Class A league #2 at Letter League Center 0637."

 "Who are you playing here," Michael pointed to the Chess table.

 "Oh it's not a game, it's a position study. A puzzle."

 "I'll see you next Monday then," Michael said.

 The man playing the "puzzle" (why play chess without the competition?) pointed to another sheet next to the Class league schedule.

"League Holiday during Exeter Classic. New Leagues start May 21st, the week after the Classic's completion."

"Where do I sign up for that?" he asked.

"You should have it in your messages. If you just arrived from off-colony, you might get it tonight."

"Thank you!" Michael said.

He had arrived on colony that morning, and now his Local Chess Center was closed for dinner break when he got back from the League center.

If there was anything he'd seen more than Chess centers, it was eating options next to them. He couldn't help but see Exeter as a blend of Shinamo's minimalism and the wild consumerism of his birth colony.

He wanted to compare the restaurant with where he grew up, but when he got several people welcoming him as he walked in, he knew there was no comparison.

He watched as a few people reshuffled seats to make a table available for him. People seemed to be traveling around to their neighbors tables while everyone waited for their food to arrive.

He was fine with waiting until everyone else got their food. He did get here late anyway. He had spent many nights not eating much and breaking his fast in the morning.

"We do a great big burst of meals for Dinner break, family style, so there will be plenty ready for everyone," said one of the servers.

At the SMC, Michael ate meals with the the other senior people, or he had a quick supplement or pill to get him through the day. He did have family meals growing up, but it was almost all virtual.

They weren't kidding either, as soon after a large meal of chicken and sides was placed at the tables.

"How do you avoid passing out from all this?" he asked a neighboring table.

"Little walk around the neighborhood and then back at it for another hour maybe," said the Dad at the next table over.

"I don't want to play Queen's Gambit Declined," said one of the young kids.

"There's other options."

It was all a foreign language to him.

One of the neighbors brought over a plate of chicken and some sides, and Michael transferred small portions onto his plate.

"New here, huh?" the guy said.

"I just got here today from the Sony network."

"You don't look like an Arcade head," said the guy.

"A lot of us disagree with that lifestyle. We have smaller colonies like Exeter. Even here, just this dinner is way more food than I've seen in years."

Michael picked away at the food as he talked with the neighbor.

"We've got a lower-half skewed local, with lots of focus on learning the game and applying what you've learned, but we're not a high-churn local, so most people stick around for at least a year, often longer. Uno keeps us together with our kids, which is nice. Some of the really good parents, they have to go play elsewhere somedays but mostly one or both parents are in the same local."

"It's good that you are able to stick together. I was with my family on the arcade world I grew up on, but Shinamo, which was my adoptive home, it was an adult's world, mostly. Not a lot of family. You'd see regular arrivals and leavers, but no real permanent community beyond a few hundred people at the top of these organizations."

"Everyone has a different situation. Uno is really smart, and she shapes each local to the people there. My brother-in-law has a daughter whose already gone past Letter classification. He's in a local with a lot of parents of bright children, where the children are playing in the nearby Children's regional expert center. Some of the parents there are participating in Expert+ events all across the colony so there's a lot more traveling and it's harder to be part of a community as a parent, but you have the overall Exeter family. The knowledge that you can be accepted nearly anywhere on colony.That's certainly not true in New London, and a lot of people came here because of that."

.

That night, Michael only got to play one game against another person, but he also watched as everyone tried to solve a "puzzle". He supposed it was kinda like a Kata in Sword Fighting. Figuring out how to position your body and sword in a certain situation.

Honestly the only Kata he needed was something basic like, how do you swing the sword. How do you hold it, and how do you stop your opponent's sword.

It was a humorous night in his room as he tried to find some kind of device that he could talk to, to get his messages. When Uno started talking to him out of thin air, he freaked out.

"You have to use devices to talk to your AIs on Shinamo?" Uno asked.

"Of course."

"You can talk to me at any time, or my subprocess more accurately. And I will talk to you on occasion. Just say messages if you want to find your messages."

"Messages."

"You have 7 messages. 6 of them are recommended for trash. 1 is very significant."

"Play them all, starting with the very significant one."

"You have receive a special qualification for the Exeter Classic 2347. Please watch your messages for Tournament Site directions. Each day of the Tournament, until you are eliminated, you will receive your morning site information at 1 am, and your evening site information at 12 pm. Your clock will start running if you are late to the site. If you are late two times during the tournament, your tournament will be over."

The other six were invitations to be trained by particular Chess teachers. He decided to wait on those, especially since Uno classified them as trash.

He had a display screen in his room. Back on Shinamo, even as the 2nd highest rank, he had to go to the AI center to review information about the challengers. Usually he just back to his room late, and spent little time there.

Uno said, "You can watch the professional matches, look up games by people in the same letter class or watch some of the highlights of Exeter's cultural overall."

"I'll watch the Pros. I have no idea how to really play chess of yet, but I'll watch."

"This was the most recent match in the long Show Match series between our top two local pros: Jin W and Sandra K," Uno said.

The pros moved quickly, making a dozen moves between them in a matter of 20 seconds, and then they slowed down.

The clocks started with 30 minutes for each pro, unlike the 10 minute timer he had seen in his first game against a person.

He could skip forward past to the next move, or wait with the Pros. This was like sword fighting at a pace where you can consider each option carefully. Gimmicks were unlikely to work.

He had no idea what the stances looked like, or what the individual strikes and parries were. His Smart Pairing was tomorrow, where he would be matched up in his first rated game. Rated games affected his Letter classification, and if he ever wanted to get out of A class, he would have to win some of these.

There were many white pieces next to black pieces, and the whole thing looked like some intricate inter-locking bonzai trees or something.

Someday he would understand. He had to play a second, and then a third game against humans first. The Exeter classic would be in a few weeks and he would be way out of his depth, but it was a good immersion in the culture.

.

It was a cold yet dewy, humid morning when he went outside. The air was crisp. Kids were riding their bicycles. He could smell baked bread from a nearby bakery.

The apartment complex was apparently for people who hadn't started their own family on the colony yet.

When he left the elevator and walked outside, he didn't go to the curb for a car yet, but waited and watched as kids rode by on bicycles, families walked and waved. He could walk to the Chess center, how far was it?

He picked up speed as he get further from the apartment. Remembering his daily routine, he decided even if chess didn't need body strength, it was part of his daily ritual to get ready for battle. He would do the same for Chess, with some substitution for chess training and drills. He could surely find some drills to do on the little square board every day.

He got to the Chess center but he still had energy to burn, just getting warmed up. He ran back and forth from the Chess Center and apartment twice more before he went inside the Chess Center.

It was obvious despite the lack of formal rules and stuctures at the local chess center, there was an ad hoc organization. Kids were pairing off with each other to play, some of the older kids were studying at chess tables. 

Michael saw several adults standing coordinating and helping.

"If you're A class, feel free to get in some games with the kids," said one of the dads.

When he sat down at a Chess table across from a little girl, she seemed afraid at first, but then when she took his queen, the girl was excited. No one said anything during the games though, but they talked about the games after they were over.

"Smart Pairings start at Noon, so we've got to get our training in now," said one of the guys Michael had seen standing.

In rapid succession, Michael played against five kids, sliding over to different tables. When he won, someone else moved to his table, when he lost, he moved. The kids called it Winner Stays rules. It was just custom and informal practice.

He won twice and lost three times. His opponents were kids from six to eight years old, and mostly they were better than him. It was a dose of reality, another dose, so to speak.

One of the parents analyzed his game with their daughter.

"You moved the same piece too much, and then traded it away. So you wasted all of those moves. You want to make more effective moves than the other person, so you have more pieces when a pileup happens."

Another mom looked at his first move as white. "There's a lot of standard opening ideas, but the center is important. If you move your a pawn forward, you aren't helping, and black can block your Rook from moving forward by moving his e pawn and also opening his pieces up and establishing the center."

But the most helpful comment was from a kid. "Dad says, you've got all the pieces stuffed in the toybox at the start, you've gotta get them out! Once you have the toys out of the box then you can play!"

It was like starting a sword fight with your sword stuck in the sheath and your hands bound.

He learned that rooks were not usually brought out, because the rows and columns were harding to break free from, but sometimes if you traded a pawn you can open up a spot for a rook to take control.

So chess was a game where the first part is getting ready for battle. but you are doing it live, and you can get interrupted, so you have to be fast. Then there's the battle, the big battle, but if no one wins yet then both sides are tired and their weapons are busted up, it's a brawl to the end.

At noon, the friendly Chess Center gathering broke up, as everyone headed to their assigned smart pairings.

There were three pairings scheduled, at the same site, for 1 pm, 2 pm and 3 pm. The site was just far enough that he decided to take the auto.

He had enough time to stop in and eat lunch before going to the Chess Center his matches were at.