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- Уолтер Тевис
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- Ход королевы
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- Стр. 266/270
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It
was
the
move
she
had
wanted
.
She
pushed
her
rook
pawn
one
square
forward
.
The
next
five
moves
followed
a
line
that
she
and
Benny
had
gone
over
on
the
telephone
,
and
she
got
the
file
open
.
But
on
the
sixth
,
Borgov
brought
his
remaining
rook
to
the
center
of
the
board
and
as
she
stared
at
it
,
sitting
on
his
queen
five
,
occupying
a
square
that
analysis
had
not
foreseen
,
she
felt
her
stomach
sink
and
knew
that
the
call
from
Benny
had
only
covered
over
the
fear
.
She
had
been
lucky
for
it
to
carry
her
this
many
moves
.
Borgov
had
started
a
line
of
play
for
which
she
had
no
continuation
ready
.
She
was
alone
again
.
She
took
her
eyes
from
the
board
with
an
effort
and
looked
out
over
the
audience
.
She
had
been
playing
here
for
days
and
still
the
mere
size
of
it
was
shocking
.
She
turned
uncertainly
back
to
the
board
,
to
the
rook
in
the
center
.
She
had
to
do
something
about
that
rook
.
She
closed
her
eyes
.
Immediately
the
game
was
visible
to
her
imagination
with
the
lucidity
she
had
possessed
as
a
child
in
bed
at
the
orphanage
.
She
kept
her
eyes
closed
and
examined
the
position
minutely
.
It
was
as
complicated
as
anything
she
had
ever
played
out
from
a
book
,
and
there
was
no
printed
analysis
to
show
what
the
next
move
was
or
who
would
win
.
There
were
no
backward
pawns
,
no
other
weaknesses
,
no
clear
-
cut
line
of
attack
for
either
player
.
The
material
was
even
,
but
his
rook
could
dominate
the
board
like
a
tank
on
a
field
of
cavalry
.
It
sat
on
a
black
square
,
and
her
black
bishop
was
gone
.
Her
pawns
could
not
attack
it
.
It
would
take
three
moves
to
get
a
knight
near
enough
.
Her
own
rook
was
stuck
in
its
home
corner
.
She
had
one
thing
to
meet
it
with
:
her
queen
.
But
where
could
she
safely
put
her
queen
?
She
was
leaning
her
cheeks
on
her
fists
now
,
and
her
eyes
remained
shut
.
The
queen
sat
harmlessly
on
the
back
rank
,
on
the
queen
bishop
square
,
where
it
had
sat
since
the
ninth
move
.
It
could
only
go
out
by
the
diagonal
,
and
it
had
three
squares
.
Each
looked
weak
.
She
ignored
the
weakness
and
examined
the
squares
separately
,
ending
with
king
knight
five
.
If
the
queen
was
there
,
he
could
swing
his
rook
under
it
and
occupy
the
file
with
a
tempo
.
That
would
be
catastrophic
,
unless
she
had
a
countermove
—
a
check
or
an
attack
on
the
black
queen
.
But
no
check
was
possible
except
with
her
bishop
,
and
that
would
be
a
sacrifice
.
His
queen
would
merely
take
the
bishop
.
But
after
that
she
could
attack
the
queen
with
her
knight
.
And
where
would
he
put
it
?
It
would
have
to
go
on
one
of
those
two
dark
squares
.
She
began
to
see
something
.
She
could
drive
the
queen
into
a
king
-
queen
fork
with
the
knight
.
He
would
take
her
queen
afterward
,
and
she
would
still
be
down
by
that
bishop
.
But
her
knight
would
now
be
poised
for
another
fork
.
She
would
win
his
bishop
.
It
would
be
no
sacrifice
.
They
would
be
equal
again
,
and
her
knight
could
go
on
to
threaten
the
rook
.
She
opened
her
eyes
,
blinked
,
and
moved
the
queen
.
He
brought
the
rook
under
it
.
Without
hesitation
she
picked
up
her
bishop
,
brought
it
out
for
the
check
,
and
waited
for
his
queen
to
take
it
.
He
looked
at
it
and
did
not
move
.
For
a
moment
she
held
her
breath
.
Had
she
missed
something
?
She
closed
her
eyes
again
,
frightened
,
and
looked
at
the
position
.
He
could
move
his
king
,
instead
of
taking
the
bishop
.
He
could
interpose
—
Suddenly
she
heard
his
voice
from
across
the
table
saying
the
astonishing
word
“
Draw
.
”
It
was
like
a
statement
and
not
a
question
.
He
was
offering
her
a
draw
.
She
opened
her
eyes
and
looked
at
his
face
.
Borgov
never
offered
draws
,
but
he
was
offering
her
one
.
She
could
accept
it
and
the
tournament
would
be
over
.
They
would
stand
up
to
be
applauded
and
she
would
leave
the
stage
in
a
tie
with
the
champion
of
the
world
.
Something
went
slack
inside
her
,
and
she
heard
her
own
silent
voice
saying
,
Take
it
!
She
looked
back
at
the
board
—
at
the
real
board
that
sat
between
them
,
and
saw
the
endgame
that
was
about
to
emerge
when
the
dust
settled
.
Borgov
was
death
on
endgames
;
he
was
famous
for
it
.
She
had
always
hated
them
—
hated
even
reading
Reuben
Fine
’
s
book
on
endgames
.
She
should
accept
the
draw
.
People
would
call
it
a
solid
achievement
.
A
draw
,
however
,
was
not
a
win
.
And
the
one
thing
in
her
life
that
she
was
sure
she
loved
was
a
win
.
She
looked
at
Borgov
’
s
face
again
and
saw
with
mild
surprise
that
he
was
tired
.
She
shook
her
head
.
No
.
