Desperate Games (16 page)

This new game, the theme of which was ‘The Landings’, was simple. One team attempted to invade the continent of Europe; and the other’s task was to ward off this sea-born opponent.
It was the fourth in a series which had proved to have a wealth of exciting aspects and finally attained lasting success.

The guiding principle proposed by the Ministry of Psychology was that of historical games. And the government could be proud of itself for having adopted it. Even though the young Rousseau’s important comment underlining the necessity of auditory impressions worthy of the images was the basis for these productions, he could not claim to be the sole originator. It was the fruit of a collaboration in which Yranne and also the astronomer Zarratoff participated. The latter, as the mathematician had confided subtly to Betty, was in the process of undergoing a remarkable change: not only was he no longer a fierce opponent of the games, but he was often tempted to add a stone himself to help build up the edifice of psychology.

The first game in the series was in fact thought up by Yranne and Zarratoff when, by a stroke of luck, there was a conjunction of two different trains of thought. When Yranne went to visit his friend, still deep in thought about Rousseau’s sensible comment, he found him bent over his desk, in the meditative attitude he knew so well. But he was not buried in contemplation of an astronomical map but of a large cardboard rectangle, on which mobile pieces could be shifted around, some of them red and the others blue, representing warships belonging to two opposing camps. Zarratoff did not utter a word. He just made an imperious gesture with his hand, to signify that he was absorbed in studying a complicated scheme and that he did not want to be disturbed.

This did not unduly surprise the mathematician. He took a seat, and sat in silence on the other side of the table, also leaning on the sheet of cardboard, and without disturbing his friend’s meditation, he started to study the position of the pieces too, trying to work out the best possible move to enable the game to continue.

‘It’s blue’s turn to move,’ Zarratoff deigned to say.

‘Well, I’ll take red.’

It was a game from former times, which the two friends had recently discovered and, surprisingly, taken a liking to. For them it took the place of chess, the laborious combinations of which they now found boring as their interests had been developing in a new direction for some time.

The game continued in silence. Yranne, who was usually the winner, watched his ships sink one after the other and found himself obliged to give up, which he in fact did with good grace. At first Zarratoff was uncontrollably exultant, but then he showed surprise at his uncustomary lack of tact.

‘You gave it to me on a plate, right from your second move. You have to protect your aircraft carrier at all costs. It’s simple.’

Yranne recognised his blunder and apologised for it.

‘It’s because I’ve got something else on my mind,’ he said.

So he explained to him that he had been present the previous day at a strange meeting in the psychology laboratory, and he repeated to him Rousseau’s conclusions. The astronomer understood, shaking his head in silence, and then both of them became absorbed in new reflections, staring blankly at the sheet of cardboard.

‘Good God!’ Zarratoff said suddenly.

‘Of course!’ exclaimed Yranne.

Nobody ever knew in which of the two brains the spark was first ignited. What is certain is that the theme of the first historical game was developed in that moment and simultaneously an important point was established concerning the principle governing all such entertainments. The two scholars only needed a few words to communicate their flash of inspiration to each other and find an ordinary, practical way to realise it. As soon as that was achieved, Yranne picked up the telephone and called the psychology laboratory. Mrs Betty Han was there, involved in an animated discussion with Rousseau.

‘We’ve found the answer! Zarratoff and me!’

‘You too?… So what is it?’

‘Trafalgar.’

‘Trafalgar? Well, yes. After all, why not?’

But he did not need to provide any further explanation. At the point she had reached in her discussion with Rousseau, her mind was focused in such a way that just this one word was sufficient. She smiled contentedly, now that she had experimental proof that the comments by her head of laboratory had turned out to be fruitful.

‘Just a second, stay on the line,’ she said, and then, speaking to Rousseau, she said, ‘They thought of Trafalgar. What do you think?… Wait!’ she continued, passing the receiver to him, ‘Tell him yourself about the point we’ve got to.’

The young man had a slightly annoyed expression on his face at first.

‘Yes, sir… Trafalgar? It’s certainly not a bad idea. But I was thinking… I mean, we were thinking, Mrs Han and I, of “The Battle of the Marne”.’

‘“The Battle of the Marne,” Yranne repeated, looking at Zarratoff. ‘Yes, of course, that’s not a bad idea either.’

‘All the same,’ the astronomer interrupted, ‘a naval battle…’

‘We’ll produce them both,’ Betty exclaimed, taking hold of the receiver. ‘We shouldn’t be arguing about it, we should be collaborating. Congratulations to all of you. I can now see the path we should take. We’ll produce them both and many more as well. It’s an inexhaustible mine.’

The principle of the historical games had indeed been established. It only remained to perfect this principle and set up precise rules. The fundamental idea consisted of selecting from the outstanding events of the past those which had not only the most extensive audio-visual appeal but were also of passionate intensity, those which had provided incontestable proof of their potential for evoking enthusiasm. And then one should perfect
them in this respect through a preliminary meticulous analysis of all their elements, followed by a pertinent synthesis, and offer them to everyone in the form of games.

It was certainly not a matter of slavishly copying historical facts and re-enacting them as in a film, where the only innovation would be the fact that the victims were real. At all costs
suspense
had to be maintained until the end of the spectacle. The event only functioned as a
theme
. The outcome, and even many of the episodes, could diverge from the original real events, according to the merits of the teams, their captain’s skill and many other factors which could determine victory or defeat.

The opposing teams were made to face each other in the very same locations where the chosen conflict actually took place (for it soon became evident that only famous battles could be fully satisfying). The teams were composed of equal numbers of players and they made sure that the resources they had at their disposal at the start were roughly the same. These conditions were not always easy to ensure and required considerable preparation.

There was scarcely any difficulty with players, who were still volunteers (more and more of them were to be found). But it was different with material equipment. It was quite simple for the first game, ‘Trafalgar’, for which the central administration took care of such matters. Thus, when the competition started at the hour of H, each of the teams were provided with a complete fleet in perfect working order, comprising the same number of ships (twenty-seven, both for the ‘English’ fleet and for the ‘French’ fleet, thus balancing the inequality which had been the case historically), and they were given the same number of armaments with an equal amount of ammunition and supplies. But after this first experiment the authorities came to the conclusion that they were depriving everybody of rather interesting elements by doing it in this way. Thus it came about that they proceeded in the following way:

Several months before the date of the spectacle the lists of the opponents were drawn up and it was up to them to sort things out, first designating their leaders and creating a hierarchy they felt would be useful, and then preparing everything for the competition themselves, from A to Z. In particular they would undertake the whole manufacturing process for their armaments, ammunition and equipment. Each camp would be provided with an equal amount of primary materials: minerals, chemical products, etc. and they would be allocated an industrial centre in good working order. It is obvious that this in itself would not suffice: experts were indispensable. Thus each camp had the right to acquire in addition a certain number of specialists, scholars and technicians, who were capable of running the factories and of obtaining the best products as soon as possible while respecting the rules of the game.

For the first games, the rules required in fact that the competitors manufactured and used only equipment in use during the period of the historical event. But this regulation was judged to be a little too rigorous and likely to impede the spirit of initiative. After various experiments, it was moderated by the following amendment: improving the equipment was allowed, on the condition that the procedure used did not call for any invention which was basically developed at a later date. This authorised to a certain extent the free use of research and discoveries, but risked causing disputes which arbitrators would have difficulty in regulating. A long list also specified in each case what was lawful and what was not. For example, for ‘Waterloo’, which was the second game in the series, it was obviously forbidden to include any motor vehicles, but it was permitted to manufacture larger and sturdier cannons, if the technicians could manage to develop alloys of more resistant metals. Likewise they were not forbidden to combine ingredients known about in the period in order to obtain a more effective gunpowder.

It is clear that some of these games required extremely long periods of preparation, but the interesting preparation provided enjoyable compensation for the necessarily very slow pace of the spectacles, keeping everybody’s minds in a healthy condition during the intervals between shows.

This long preparatory work had become a game in itself, a game of patience, a game of intelligence, a game demanding all the resources of the mind, not provoking the intense passion of the competition, but nevertheless making the world hold its breath, with sudden bouts of feverish excitement causing it to rise to the highest peaks. Indeed, although a part of this preliminary work was carried out behind the scenes, the number of participants made it impossible to keep it secret. Human beings did not lack means of keeping themselves informed of progress and were on the look-out for frequent indiscretions as well as cases of espionage, which the press talked of in veiled terms, or which could be guessed when it was learned that such and such a traitor had been summarily executed.

For, once the teams had been set up, one of their first concerns was the creation of an intelligence service.

Finding out whether the outcome of the competition would conform to reality, or whether, on the contrary, victory would go to the team which was historically vanquished, were both equally fascinating to the public. Bets were made on the matter, and they could become quite high as information leaked out, so much so that some information arriving at the last moment could change people’s fortunes. These distractions which had grown up around the main game contributed quite a lot in keeping everyone in the world, in which melancholy had now disappeared, in a useful state of tension.

People enjoyed renaming the principal leaders of the teams just as much. In this way the real historical circumstances had been re-enacted in broad outlines for ‘Trafalgar’. The
Alpha camp, commanded by ‘Nelson’, had triumphed, with the opposing fleet being sunk with all hands and all the Beta sailors drowned or massacred. The victorious admiral however had survived and become a star, which was a great relief to him, as, being superstitious, he had felt ill at ease throughout the game.

In the case of ‘Waterloo’ however the ‘Napoleon’ camp had been crowned with victory. ‘Blücher’ had been led astray by false information, and ‘Grouchy’ came to the rescue in time. On the other hand ‘The Battle of the Marne’ was won by the camp representing the German army, which was the result of another fine operation by the secret service and sabotage commandos. ‘Gallieni’, who lacked imagination, had tried to repeat the taxi trick (this behaviour was not exceptional and it evoked curiosity and overexcitement as everyone tried to find out how much certain leaders often stuck to old tried and tested tactics). But, on the day before day J, well informed by their spies, the enemy succeeded in putting sugar into the tanks of all Parisian taxis, which could easily be spotted. There was a mass breakdown when the order was given to set off.

This made for a fine sequence on the world satellite television service, which took care not to miss it. The television viewers split their sides laughing when they saw the unfortunate drivers moaning and exchanging insults, as they took their engines to pieces without being able to find the cause of the problem. The viewers were of course in the know, as a commentator had explained what had happened shortly beforehand, for certain secret activities could not be filmed. Shown in this way the scene reminded people of the best sequences from what was known in the past as ‘candid camera’, and was a great success.

The preparation of a game required all the more care, resources and time when the event took place in the more recent past. For ‘Waterloo’ it lasted only four months. As it was quite easy to manufacture the armaments, the trickiest part was the gathering and training of a sufficient number of horses, but the experience gained during the straightforward jousting made the task easier. For ‘The Battle of the Marne’, which called for more advanced technology, a period of six months was allowed for.

For ‘The Landings’ the preparation period was fixed at one year, which was a very short period, given the scope of the spectacle to be organised. But Fawell had an ulterior motive which encouraged him to insist on keeping to this precise deadline. This was quite an exciting challenge for the teams’ intelligence and knowledge and this knowledge was perforce playing a greater and greater role in the preparations. It was in fact for ‘The Landings’ that the scholars were finally called upon to play a central role in the games.

They fought over the men of science! Realising that they were doomed to defeat without their help, and knowing that they were incapable of reinventing gunpowder for cannons or tempered metal, the leaders of the teams attempted, as was their right, to enlist the help of the most prestigious scholars and the most skilled technicians. The first of these had had to interrupt their work on fundamental research yet again. This was nothing new, but what was surprising about it was that they now seemed far from unhappy about it and, flattered no doubt by such a request, they all applied themselves to fulfilling it with the enthusiastic fervour of adolescents.

An extremely curious phenomenon had in fact made its appearance in the world, which even Mrs Betty Han’s subtle mind had not foreseen.

People had indeed been drawn towards a certain kind of science, though not of the purest kind: they were always looking for practical applications. Yet one could nevertheless speak of a growth of, not to say refinement of, interest. But this was offset by the fact that the scholars’ interest suffered a gradual deterioration to almost the same degree, which meant there was a risk of them all finding themselves at quite a mediocre intellectual level.

The change suffered by Yranne and then by Zaratoff, showing a sudden liking for childish entertainments, was in no way an isolated case. It had been observed that Fawell himself and also O’Kearn had let themselves be tempted in this way. And others followed suit. It was a disturbing paradox, but real for all that, that men of science started stooping to share the cares, desires and joys of ordinary humanity. They now took a keen interest in working for the games, following its restrictive rules, which meant that they used the imperfect theories and limited resources of a past era. Sometimes they played like children, putting together ‘gadgets’ with an easy ingenuity, making it a point of honour ‘not to use’ subsequent scientific developments. Such and such a physicist, who had made discoveries by using enormous amounts of energy in a minute mass, now took a childish pleasure in combining ingredients for a certain black gunpowder, in such a way as to obtain the best result from it. For ‘Trafalgar’ an expert on wave transmissions perfected a system of optical communication based on semaphore. Another great scholar attempted to imitate Archimedes by setting fire to the enemy fleet by means of mirrors. He only managed to destroy one vessel, but this provided another excellent televised moment of the games and gave him great delight.

However pure science was not completely absent from people’s memories. The rival teams always symbolised one lofty scientific field of research or another, one of them belonging to the
realm of physics, and the other to that of biology. And this traditional system had been clarified even more this time. For ‘The Landings’ the Alphas represented quite simply ‘Physics’ and the Betas ‘Biology’.

Up till then the Alpha team had always been victorious. In fact their opponents suffered a definite handicap in the manufacture of armaments, for the best specialists in this field belonged to the physicists’ clan and quite naturally made themselves available to help them. The others had to study the laws of inert matter with a view to transforming it into big guns, shells and explosives, but their studies had not yet been crowned with success, which made them furious. It was generally known that they had made an exceptional effort for ‘The Landings’, in which they hoped to take their revenge. Not only ought they easily to be superior in their treatment of the wounded, due to the advent of antibiotics, but there was a rumour that they were also preparing some unpleasant surprises of a different order.

The
Nobels
were by no means unexcited by the game. In principle, they had no more right to take part in the preparation than the ministers, but most of them had a passionate desire for their clan to win, and many of them took the risk of giving confidential advice to secret agents who came to consult them at night.

As for the pure mathematicians, they had proved themselves expert in working out on paper effective movements of fleets or squadrons, and some of them hoped to play an even more important role, at the time of the actual landings, with the establishment of operational research.

Yranne, however, who had contributed so brilliantly to the basic concept, left it at that for a while. But as the landings approached, he revealed that he was involved in something else. For several months, he had been gleaning as much information as possible here and there, comparing it, refining it, assessing it
and applying calculations of probability to it. When he became virtually certain that the Alpha camp would prevail again, he staked large bets. Then, not being selfish by nature, he decided to let his friend Zarratoff profit from his knowledge.

He found him sitting at his desk, in his usual working posture, leaning over a map of the sky with different constellations on it. Apparently the astronomer had got back to his special field, which had been somewhat neglected of late, and was pursuing his cosmological research again. As he usually did, Yranne waited patiently until the other man had finished his calculations, which he was in the middle of writing on a notepad next to the map. It was only when Zarratoff raised his head, with a strange gleam in his pupils, that he revealed the purpose of his visit and told him about his predictions.

‘So? What’s your tip?’

‘The Alpha team. There’s a probability of ninety-nine per cent. You can place a large bet on it.’

‘Thanks. But I’ve already done that, because I knew.’

‘You knew?’

‘I also made some calculations and my conclusion is not simply a probability, however great that might be. It’s a certainty.’

‘A certainty?’

‘An absolute one.’

The astronomer gave a malicious little laugh, and Yranne realized that he would get nothing more out of him. So he did not try. The main thing was that the conclusions of their calculations were roughly similar.

Zaratoff fetched a bottle and the two of them drank to their anticipated success. They had a double reason for rejoicing, for their sympathies were with the clan of physicists, regardless of the winnings they were counting on as a reward for their scholarly calculations.