from last year’s match
sits down at the knotted wood table
on which the flat chess board
sits, tessellated with white and black
space
and the pieces glower in anticipation.
a man sits across from him, a cypher
carrying out the instructions of a machine –
Deep Blue – a black tower with silicon chips
inside
that pulse with coded information.
move, countermove. again. a gain.
hundreds of millions of possibilities
course through the computer’s circuitry.
then, Blue forces Kasparov into a bad move.
a shadow flickers across his face, a twitch
he cannot be aware of.
he sees it, the mistake played out
in quadratic lines blurred by time.
the recognition contorts his face;
he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
he pushes the table away in frustration
and stands up, walks away: one fluid motion.
the people watching open their mouths;
History has been made today.
soon human dominance will fade
today chess, tomorrow the novel,
the next day brain surgery.
humans will have to stake their claim
in a world that
doesn’t need them
any more.
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