|
It was a bright if brisk January
day in Washington. Some 750,000 people had crowded into
the capital to see General Dwight D. Eisenhower inaugurated
as the thirty-fourth President of the United States.
They had watched him raise his arms in the familiar
V salute of victory and heard him promise to deliver
America from a" time of tempest."
Foxx observed through the window of his taxi that
the solemn consecration had degenerated by mid-afternoon
into a drunken carnival, as the driver cursed at a throng
of red-faced Republican celebrants pushing a paper-mache
elephant up Pennsylvania Avenue. It had taken him nearly
two hours to get from National Airport to Foggy Bottom.
He hated being late and he was now 20 minutes late.
Had the game begun without him? Had he kept 16 men waiting?
Flashing his State Department security pass Tracy had
given him, Foxx breezed by the guards. He ran the main
corridor, turned left at the research library, and took
the elevator to the fourth floor. He then burst into
the Gaming Center. "Quite a day for America," Tracy
welcomed him, "Kim's looking forward to meeting you."
he added, shepherded over to the table. Kim Roosevelt
was seated in Foxx's chair. Foxx smiled at Roosevelt.
He had gleaned Roosevelt's monograph in Widener that
he had lived a very peripatetic life. He had been born
in Buenos Aires, where his father, the son of Teddy
Roosevelt, was an engineer, grew up in New York City,
received his degree from Harvard, where taught history
at Harvard, joined the OSS, the Oh-So-Social fore-runner
of the CIA and served as a diplomat in Egypt at the
time of the coup d'etat there. He since, as Tracy put
it, he had occasional " roving assignments in the Middle
East." For whom? Foxx wondered. Roosevelt grasped his
hand more than firmly: he had an iron grip. "Great game
you have here, Foxxy." Fox looked around the table mystified.
What had happened to the other 16 players? Had they
also been delayed by Inauguration Day traffic? Why was
Kim sitting in his seat? "Kim suggested we do a dry
run," Tracy said, anticipating Foxx's questions. "Right,"
Roosevelt said, still hanging on to Foxx's hand. He
had clearly taken charge of the Game of Nations. "We'll
play this round ourselves. Iron out the kinks. OK, Foxxy"
Foxx, extricating his hand from Roosevelt's, took the
seat between Tracy and Roosevelt. " I've rescheduled
the full session for 3 PM tomorrow. Everyone will be
here," Tracy added, "You're staying for the dance in
any case. Is your friend coming?" Foxx nodded affirmatively.
He had accepted Tracy invitation to the Inauguration
Back and White Waltz night at his home in Georgetown.
He had also asked Tina to join him, since she had said
she wanted to inspect the pre-Raphaelites at the Mellon
Gallery. "We'll start with move two," Tracy said, lowering
the lights. Foxx reached into the pack of cards that
represented each of the possible moves in the game.
With his magnetic pencil, he checked off the changes
in instructions that Tracy had suggested and then inserted
into the computer. A moment later, the screen flashed:
CHROMIUM MINES IN ZEMBLIA CLOSE DOWN Roosevelt looked
at the different-colored symbols triangles, circles,
squares--- blinking on his console with the glee of
a child discovering that a new toy works. Each symbol
represented a different possible "pay-off" to one of
the role-players in the game. "Not much choice here.
The West needs Zemblia's chromium, so it needs to take
immediate action. Next move" "There is something here
that bothers me, Kim," Foxx said. "The choice of the
hypothetical commodity." That choice had been nagging
at his confidence in the game ever since Tina asked
about it in the Blue Parrot. He decided that this was
a good opportunity to put it to rest. "Why chromium?"
"Why not chromium?," Roosevelt answered. "Could be
anything, lets not waste time." Tracy cut in. Foxx
picked up his yellow pad, and read what he had scrawled
down earlier. "Chromium does not satisfy three key requisites
of the Ajax scenario. First, the hypothetical commodity
must be flammable, chromium is not..." "Why flammable?"
Roosevelt interrupted. "Rule 19a. It proscribes any
incendiary bombing of its deep water port . The idea
is the commodity would go up in smoke," Foxx explained.
"An unnecessary detail. Delete the word "incendiary."
Tracy suggested. "Second requisite," Fox continued reading
from his notes. "The hypothetical commodity must be
dependent on ocean shipping so Option #42a a blockade
will work; chromium is not dependent on ships, it could
be transported by rail or even trucks." "Another detail
we can fix." Tracy impatiently tapped his pencil on
the desk. "Third Requisite," Foxx continued, taking
no note of Tracy's point, "the hypothetical commodity
must be time-critical to the West, the shortage must
force the West to act. Chromium is not time-critical,
the U.S. has a two year stockpile in its strategic reserve."
"Your points, Professor, are purely academic. It doesn't
make a hell of a lot of difference what commodity we
use, does it?" Roosevelt said, fully displaying his
row of large, protruding teeth. "The difference is
logical consistency." "What do you suggest," Tracy asked.
It was the opening Foxx had been waiting for. "Crude
oil. It fills all three requisites. It is inflammable,
it is dependent on ocean shipping and it is in very
short supply in the West. So why not substitute crude
oil for chromium" Tracy looked daggers at Foxx. "Next
game, Foxxy, we'll use oil --or ostrich feathers, if
you prefer," Roosevelt broke the silence. This game
is chromium. Proceed with the scenario. Jump ahead to
move 12." Foxx put another card in the computer. The
twelfth move flashed on the screen: KING OF ZEMBLIA
ASKS PRIME MINISTER TO RESIGN BECAUSE OF CRISIS. "What
does the Prime Minister do? "Roosevelt asked?" "His
highest pay-off come if he refuses the King's request,"
Foxx observed, re-checking the briefing book. "On Page
11 it is stipulated that the King of Zemblia is resigns
but does not rule." "Precisely." Roosevelt agreed. "Next
move." PRIME MINISTER REFUSES KING'S ORDER. CALLS PARLIAMENT
INTO SESSION. Roosevelt pondered the pay-offs on his
screen. "The King has no good choices. If he attempts
to overrule Parliament, he will be called a tyrant and
deposed. If he doesn't..." "He's reduced to remaining
a pitiful figure-head on the throne," boomed a voice
in an Oxbridge accent from rear door. A man in a rumpled
three piece suit walked over to Roosevelt. Roosevelt
greeted him like an old comrade in arms, which he was,
and then introduced him to Tracy and Foxx only as "Tony
from London.""Hope you don't mind the addition, Foxxy.
I invited Tony here today to give the game more international
intrigue." Roosevelt seated Tony in the place marked
King of Zemblia. "Show Tony how this damn console works,"
he instructed Foxx. "An academic or diplomat?" Foxx
asked, trying to make conversation with him, as he demonstrated
the mechanics of the game. He noticed that Tony's head
was massive compared to his body. "Neither" he answered,
offering no further clues. He studied his briefing book
with the scrutiny that a gem collector applies to precious
stones. Foxx inserted the next move in the computer..
KING ASKS TRANSVANIA TO SEND IN PARATROOPERS "Why Transvania?"
The new arrival asked. "Transvania owns the Chromium
concession in Zemblia," Foxx explained. "In move 5,
Transvania dispatched a regiment of paratroopers to
neighboring North Arcania." Tony got up and huddled
with Roosevelt. He seemed emphatic in making his point.
"No paratroopers from Transvania," Roosevelt said. "Lets
replay that move..." "Are we changing the rules?" Foxx
asked. "No Transvania military intervention," Tony
said. "Just this one rule. Encode it in the instructions
for the next round," Tracy said. "Right we need another
option here, Foxxy" Roosevelt added, "The King is almost
powerless. What can he do to survive?" Tony pulled
Roosevelt out of earshot and began a whisper exchange.
Tracy, awaiting the outcome, delved into a pile of paper
in front of him. Foxx was becoming bored with the game.
His mind drifted back to how they had met in the movies.
She her stealing his popcorn, silencing him while Bergman
kissed Bogart, crying when Bergman flew away in an airplane.
"Have you come up with an answer yet, Foxx." Roosevelt
asked, coming up behind him so close he could feel his
breath. "King flies out of Zemblia on an air plane,"
Foxx said, still thinking of the movie. "The King abdicates?"
Roosevelt questioned. "The King flees," Tracy questioned?
"No, he just adds to the uncertainty by temporarily
leaving. All the pressure is now on the Prime Minister,"
Tony spoke up. "After all, the King is very popular
with the masses." Foxx wondered how this newcomer could
assert that a fictional King was popular in a fictional
country. Or wasn't it a fictional king or country? "Absolutely
brilliant, Foxxy." Roosevelt patted him on the back.
Encode that immediately. Tracy, Professor Foxx deserves
a bonus."
Foxx left the game exhausted and took a cab to the Hay-Adams
Hotel. He was relieved to see that Tina had already checked
into the two room suite that Tracy had insisted on arranging
for him, and charged to the Gaming Center's expense account.
Opening the door, he found that Tina had used the hotel's
chocolate mints to mark a delicious trail leading to her
in bed. She was asleep in a T-shirt, her lithe body curled
into a question mark . |
