"It was a good tournament," Doc said. "And the Machine has proven itself a grandmaster. It must make you feel good, Simon, after being out of tournament chess for twenty years."
The psychologist nodded.
"Will you go back to psychology now?" Sandra asked him.
Simon Great smiled. "I can answer that question honestly, Miss Grayling, because the news is due for release. No. WBM is pressing for entry of the Machine in the Interzonal Candidates' Tournament. They want a crack at the World's Championship."
Doc raised his eyebrows. "That's news indeed. But look, Simon, with the knowledge you've gained in this tournament won't you be able to make the Machine almost a sure winner in every game?"
"I don't know. Players like Angler and Lysmov may find some more flaws in its functioning and dream up some new stratagems. Besides, there's another solution to the problems raised by having a single computer entered in a grandmaster tournament."
Doc sat up straight. "You mean having more programmer-computer teams than just one?"
"Exactly. The Russians are bound to give their best players computers, considering the prestige the game has in Russia. And I wasn't asking Willie that question about IBM just on a hunch. Chess tournaments are a wonderful way to test rival computers and show them off to the public, just like cross-country races were for the early automobiles. The future grandmaster will inevitably be a programmer-computer team, a man-machine symbiotic partnership, probably with more freedom each way than I was allowed in this tournament—I mean the man taking over the play in some positions, the machine in others."
"You're making my head swim," Sandra said.