A little later Catie found her way back to George again. “One thing,” she said, “before I turn in. You knew that I was helping Net Force from the very start, didn’t you.”
“I suspected,” George said. “Very strongly. I mean, you practically had it painted on your forehead.”
Catie blushed. She thought she had been fairly circumspect.
“But I wasn’t going to say anything out loud,” George said. “I wasn’t sure how carefully the ‘eavesdroppers’ might have been listening to me…and I didn’t want to get anyone else in trouble.”
Catie nodded. “There’s just one more thing,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Even though the server was clean…you lost.”
George nodded, looking completely unconcerned. “They’re a good team,” he said. “They deserved to win. Anybody who could play us the way we were playing today, and win, is unquestionably championship material.” He smiled, a rather more reflective look. “And South Florida’s made a little history today. We’ve never gotten this far before. So, next year…”
“Next year,” Catie said. “By then you’ll be a professional. My prediction.”
“Interesting,” George said. “We’ll see.”
“And famous.”
“I’m famous now,” George said mildly. “For whatever that’s worth.” He looked around him. “But with people like this around me, to be famous with, it might be worth something. We’ll see.”
“All right. But about that chess game—”
“Give me a night off,” George said. “If only to recover. Not to mention to consider my next move.”
“Okay,” Catie said. She glanced over at Hal and made a let’s-go-home gesture. He nodded.
“Congratulations,” Catie said softly.
George nodded, somber. “Thanks.”
And Catie gathered up Hal and left.
The next morning, very early, Catie slipped into her version of the Great Hall of the Library of Congress, with the pink of dawn just coming in through the high windows at the top of the dome, and looked around at the canvases and paperwork lying around the Comfy Chair, still badly in need of sorting. She looked particularly at the e-mails, but there were no new ones.
So now that he’s famous, she thought, is he still talking tome…?
She turned around and looked at the chessboard, then glanced up at the text window above it, where a line of text was flashing. It read:
18
PxQ
ch–
And then, out of the air, a voice said: “Gotcha.”
Very slowly, Catie smiled.