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- Уолтер Тевис
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- Ход королевы
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- Стр. 191/270
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“
Eggs
in
the
fridge
,
”
Benny
said
.
“
We
’
ll
play
the
Borgov
games
first
.
”
“
All
of
them
?
”
“
He
’
ll
be
in
Paris
when
you
go
.
”
She
looked
at
the
magazine
in
her
hand
and
then
over
at
the
table
by
the
window
again
,
then
at
her
watch
.
It
was
ten
after
eight
.
“
I
’
ll
have
the
eggs
first
,
”
she
said
.
They
got
sandwiches
from
a
deli
for
lunch
and
ate
them
over
the
board
.
Supper
came
from
a
Chinese
take
-
out
on
First
Avenue
.
Benny
would
not
let
her
play
quickly
through
the
openings
;
he
stopped
her
whenever
a
move
was
at
all
obscure
and
asked
her
why
she
did
it
.
He
made
her
analyze
everything
out
of
the
ordinary
.
Sometimes
he
would
physically
stop
her
hand
from
moving
a
piece
to
ask
questions
.
“
Why
not
advance
the
knight
?
”
or
“
Why
isn
’
t
he
defending
against
the
rook
?
”
or
“
What
’
s
going
to
become
of
the
backward
pawn
?
”
It
was
rigorous
and
intense
,
and
he
did
not
let
up
.
She
had
been
aware
of
such
questions
for
years
but
had
never
allowed
herself
to
pursue
them
with
this
kind
of
rigor
.
Often
her
mind
would
be
racing
with
the
attack
possibilities
inherent
in
the
positions
that
developed
in
front
of
her
,
wanting
to
push
Luchenko
or
Mecking
or
Czerniak
into
lightning
attacks
against
Borgov
,
when
Benny
stopped
her
with
a
question
about
defense
or
opening
the
light
or
dark
squares
or
contesting
a
file
with
a
rook
.
It
infuriated
her
sometimes
,
yet
she
could
see
the
rightness
of
his
questions
.
She
had
been
playing
grandmaster
games
in
her
head
from
the
time
she
first
discovered
Chess
Review
,
but
she
had
not
been
disciplined
about
it
.
She
played
them
to
exult
in
the
win
—
to
feel
the
stab
of
excitement
at
a
sacrifice
or
a
forced
mate
,
especially
in
the
games
that
were
printed
in
books
precisely
because
they
incorporated
drama
of
that
kind
—
like
the
game
books
by
Fred
Reinfeld
that
were
full
of
queen
sacrifices
and
melodrama
.
She
knew
from
her
tournament
experience
that
you
couldn
’
t
rely
on
your
opponent
setting
himself
up
for
a
queen
sacrifice
or
a
surprise
mate
with
knight
and
rook
;
still
,
she
treasured
the
thrill
of
games
like
that
.
It
was
what
she
loved
in
Morphy
,
not
his
routine
games
and
certainly
not
his
lost
ones
—
and
Morphy
like
everyone
else
had
lost
games
.
But
she
had
always
been
bored
by
ordinary
chess
even
when
it
was
played
by
grandmasters
,
bored
in
the
way
that
she
was
bored
by
Reuben
Fine
’
s
endgame
analyses
and
the
counteranalyses
in
places
like
Chess
Review
that
pointed
out
errors
in
Reuben
Fine
.
She
had
never
done
anything
like
what
Benny
was
making
her
do
now
.
The
games
she
was
playing
were
serious
,
workmanlike
chess
played
by
the
best
players
in
the
world
,
and
the
amount
of
mental
energy
latent
in
each
move
was
staggering
.
Yet
the
results
were
often
monumentally
dull
and
inconclusive
.
An
enormous
power
of
thought
might
be
implicit
in
a
single
white
pawn
move
,
say
,
opening
up
a
long
-
range
threat
that
could
become
manifest
only
in
half
a
dozen
moves
;
but
Black
would
foresee
the
threat
and
find
the
move
that
canceled
it
out
,
and
the
brilliancy
would
be
aborted
.
It
was
frustrating
and
anticlimactic
,
yet
—
because
Benny
forced
her
to
stop
and
see
what
was
going
on
—
fascinating
.
They
kept
it
up
for
six
days
,
leaving
the
apartment
only
when
necessary
and
once
,
on
Wednesday
night
,
going
to
a
movie
.
Benny
did
not
own
a
TV
,
or
a
stereo
;
his
apartment
was
for
eating
,
sleeping
and
chess
.
They
played
through
the
Hastings
booklet
and
the
Russian
one
,
not
missing
a
game
except
for
the
grandmaster
draws
.
On
Tuesday
she
got
her
lawyer
in
Kentucky
on
the
phone
and
asked
him
to
see
if
everything
was
all
right
at
the
house
.
She
went
to
Benny
’
s
branch
of
Chemical
Bank
and
opened
an
account
with
the
winner
’
s
check
from
Ohio
.
It
would
take
five
days
for
it
to
clear
.
She
had
enough
traveler
’
s
checks
to
pay
her
share
of
the
expenses
until
then
.
