by M.A. Harris
Questions
Chuck and Ted played chess about once a month, most times they met. The old desert rat was a local ‘character’ who drove an old but excellently maintained jeep and never seemed to need anything. A sharp mind and educated accent indicated Chuck hadn’t always been what he was now. Over chess they talked politics, world and local events while enjoying each other’s company.
“You been up to the lake anytime recently Ted?” asked Chuck out of the blue as he moved a pawn into a threatening position. There were many lakes in the mountains, only one referred to as ‘the lake’ - Lake of the Sky - the head of the canal that was going to save Primus Junction.
“Not in the last year I guess?” Ted flipped a knight out to protect his position. They didn’t play a speed game but neither of them liked long drawn out pauses.
“Huh….you know any reason they slowed down? Figured they’d bring in extra crews to accelerate the work this summer but they didn’t. They have to be behind schedule now. Too late to do anything now, it’s winter.” The hand floated then stooped in to make a move.
“Been some muttering about that but the local manager swears they are fine, that the head complex will be ready by the middle of the summer.” One of Chuck’s pawns vanished.
“Maybe, but the power plant won’t be ready.” Chuck hesitated thoughtfully.
“Oh…guess I didn’t know that the plant was scheduled for the same time?” Ted contemplated the future of the little mosaic world on the table.
Chuck moved a rook into support, “That’s what’s in the published plan..”
Ted made his move, with a frown, “Is the important stuff on schedule?”
It was one more question, rumors were in the air, some weird, most Ted discounted, but something was going on, something to do with the Hollow, Paul obviously deep into something.
Chuck dispatched a pawn, “AI’s security force is getting rough around Ship Plateau.”
“They’ve set up a pretty important research center there.” Ted moved to protect his flank.
Chuck flicked out a bishop, “Maybe, but why would a couple of, I guess you’d call them punks, though one of them was a woman, rough me up for being on a ridge across the way?””
Ted glanced up and noted for the first time what could be fading bruises on his friends face and a mostly healed abrasion on his arm. “You complain to Mike Breton? They had no right to do that, especially if you weren’t on company property.”
“Nah, not worth it, been banged up worse, near had my head handed to me for being too near a WTO meeting in Charleston some years ago.” Chuck seemed to think this amusing.
Ted made a move without thinking about it, promptly losing a rook; he snapped his fingers in irritation at his own stupidity but after a few seconds thought made a move that made Chuck swear under his breath. Ted frowned, “What research would be that sensitive? I was figuring it was some special design project, maybe construction related.”
Chuck snorted while frowning at the board, “Don’t know, several of the people working up there are nuclear physicists or specialists in space systems of one sort or another.”
Ted had lost track of the game, “What? I was thinking they were working on some kind of construction dirigible, probably a remote controlled one.”
Chuck shrugged, and then pointed at the board, “You know you have me, don’t you?”
“Check next move, Checkmate in three unless you see something I don’t”
Chuck looked at his watch, “Got to go, have a meeting with a buddy near Salt Lake City this evening.” He turned as he reached for the door, “You know Colonel, I sometimes wonder why I like being beaten by you so much, see you soon.” And he was gone.