"You mean the Machine has beaten Grabo?" Sandra asked.
"What else?"
"Can you be sure? Just like that?"
"Of cour.... Wait a second.... Yes, I'm sure."
"Mated in three like a potzer," Bill confirmed.
"The poor old boob," Judy sighed.
Down on the floor Bela Grabo sagged. The assistant director moved toward him quickly. But then the Hungarian straightened himself a little.
"I resign," he said softly.
The red words at the top of the board were wiped out and briefly replaced, in white, by:
THANK YOU FOR A GOOD GAME