Archive of Our Own

When I come to the first thing I notice is that I'm curled up in the middle of nowhere, nobody beside me. I'm on a dark square, but as soon as I reach out to test my balance, something feels off.

Carefully, I try to pull myself up, without reaching out. Make one preemptive move and they'll hold us to that, after all. That much I know. Stretching, yawning, I turn around--no one behind me, ally or enemy alike. In front--still nobody.

This is destiny, I think. Rooks belong on open files, that was someone's maxim. And in spite of everything, I'm a rook this time.

My name is Hikaru. Oshiro Hikaru, if you must know. You may well have manipulated my sisters and brothers, who have lived and died untold, simple lives from conscription to sacrifice. Some of you may even have met those pawns of the puzzle-boards, who are called to life in all sorts of mature positions, then pass away after brief mates in three.

But our board bears another blessing, and curse. It was not our fate to learn how best to wipe out another army--our burden is to remember all that we have been, even as the rules change around us. "It isn't that hard a game," Queen Zahra had told us, in another lifetime. "Do your job, keep moving forward, and maybe someday you'll take my place."

With a gulp, I look around again. Zahra must be dead, and I didn't succeed her after all. What had happened?

Finally, instructions from Command! I hastily pick up the envelope, but there aren't any moves listed, just a hastily-scrawled note. Don't answer any questions. You have the right to remain silent. We're trying to establish authority here. It's our move, there's no clock. Stay where you are until further notice.

Clocks! I've heard of these--in other boards they have these to harry along indecisive commanders. Maybe that would be an improvement.

All of a sudden, I'm accosted by a gray form in the distance. Not one of the black troops--after so many battles, even they have taken on their own familiarity. No, this must be one of the adjudicators.

Silence.

"You're part of the white army?" she asks.

"Of course."

"And a rook?"

"Apparently so."

"Where did you come from?"

"I--I can't say."

"Are you a promoted pawn?"

"I don't know."

"Have you come from the back rank?"

"Not sure, sorry."

"Do you recognize any of these individuals?" She slides me a positional diagram. "Have they given you passage?"

Of course I know who they are. It's King Rajnish, from the black army, and Catahecassa, one of his rooks. "From past games, sure. About this one...?"

"Have you ever been here? Or here?"

Snapshots of our own corner squares, the places a rook might be born into. "Perhaps."

"You're sure helpful."

"I try."

She rolls her eyes. "Let us know when you're ready to talk."

I say nothing, carefully pacing the confines of my square while waiting for any word from Command. Finally, instructions arrive. We've got this. Stay put this move; Minh is coming to give you backup. Whatever they do is irrelevant, you go for the win on d8 at the next opportunity.

I glance behind me--is that King Bertrand running for shelter?--but only moments later, there's Minh, one of our rooks, giving a distant salute.

The adjudicator chuckles slightly. "So. You are a pawn, after all."

"I--what? I don't have to tell you anything!"

"Relax. You've already won the game, haven't you?"

"No one even tells me what's going on."

"You poor thing, victory must be so hard."

"I don't get it."

"Why don't you just go ahead? It's already your turn."

So I march forward, trying to make sense of my world. As I process, I pass Goizargi, one of my pawn friends, then walk between two of the black pawns, Senka and Sauda. Finally, I reach the last rank, where King Rajnish is waiting, holding his crown in his hands. "Good game."

"Thanks." I try to sound as gracious as possible. Neither of us have much control over the situation we've inherited, and we both know it. Yet here we are, game after game. "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" echoes Sauda, Rajnish' loyal pawn in defeat as in victory. "Your rook friend came to back you up, then you came down here. Back rank mate."

"Normal back rank mate?" Rajnish chuckles softly. "Is that what you think this is about?"

"Yes?" Sauda asks, but I say "No."

"Wait," says Sauda, "Hikaru, is that you? I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you!"

"It's all right," I say. "Please go on, sir."

"If it was as simple as the other rook coming to her defense, he could have just side-stepped over like always," Rajnish explains. "No, the issue was that they were castling back there."

"That's right," I nod. "I thought I saw King Bertrand moving."

"But what's the point?" Sauda asks. "As long as the other rook was on her file, she wins by coming here either way."

"The point isn't where her fellow rook is," says Rajnish. "The point is her."

"They were interrogating me," I say. "Trying to figure out whether I was a promoted pawn. And--as soon as we castled--they knew."

"If you'd been a starting rook," Sauda nods, "your king would have had to move to let you out. So he wouldn't have been able to castle."

"So I'm a pawn. Which means I came from back here." I look around, but most of the black pawns were still where they'd begun. "So either you moved to let me out, sir, or...Catahecassa, in the corner. Either way--that's what proved that you couldn't castle."

"And with a back rank mate looming, that was our only hope," says Rajnish. "One has to seize these opportunities quickly, I suppose."

I glance along the back row. "Must have been some trip."

"This is the part we remember?" Sauda sighs. "Life isn't fair."

I blink awake and stretch myself. It's a nice square, not royal by any stretch, but well-maintained. Pawn-shaped barracks, though everything feels slightly off.

I squint, my eyes adjusting to the light, and take it in. These were accoutrements built for pawns, all right--black pawns! I'm on the seventh row, and promotion is in sight. Maybe today is the day when I can make Queen Zahra proud.

But before I can do that I have to check for instructions, of course. Even would-be queens don't really set policy. And Command is of several minds. One hasty note says All set up great for you, Hikaru! Go on ahead, the monarchy awaits! Another, however, reads Be careful and don't rush. We want to win as quickly as possible! Just when I'm starting to ask myself how that's supposed to work, a follow-up clarifies, With this advantage, a win in five is trite. Let's see if we can't crush their spirits in three moves.

What advantage? The back row I'm so excited to occupy is empty, the ruins of some massacre I can't fathom. To my left and to my right, the other files are barren. I must be just a symbol to them; the chosen one, meant for a brighter crown. If I could be protected, with no memory of the slaughter that preceded me, maybe their lives were worthwhile. Maybe.

Behind me is King Rajnish, another wry expression crossing his face. "Hikaru. An honor, as always."

"Oh, don't say that--I hardly--"

"Or should I be calling you Your Highness?"

"I'm not queen yet."

He gave an indecipherable snort. "Of course not. Beg pardon."

Behind him, in the distance, there's King Bertrand, of course--we would not still be here if our figurehead was vanquished--and squinting in the distance, I can just make out Nimh's silhouette. The tall rook still has our backs.

Finally, a message from Command. I read it once, twice, then commit it to memory before stowing it away. It won't do to appear weak, projecting the orders of someone else. A monarch has to be strong.

I step forward, ready for whatever transfiguration the eighth rank permits. "King me."

"I..." the stern adjudicator trails off, "the department of checkers promotions is that way."

"No, you heard me."

"But..."

"I don't want to be a consort-general, I'd like to be a regnant monarch."

"You already have a regnant monarch."

"Co-regent with King Bertrand, then. I don't want to usurp him."

"Then don't."

"Look, we both know there are times when it makes more sense for me to underpromote to a knight to give check, or a bishop or rook to avoid stalemate." Or whatever I'd been doing last time. "And there's no rule that whatever I have to promote to has to have been captured before." Thankfully, I've been assured that if Queen Zahra is alive and I want to be another queen, I can promote without having to look like a rook and walk on my hands. The world is dizzying enough.

"But all the same, a king."

"Do you think I'm not qualified to be the head of state? Alongside Bertrand, no less. This feels like petty discrimination, and I won't stand for it."

"You're not in any place to tell us what you'll do."

"I'm on the eighth rank, I think that's exactly where I'm entitled to make decisions. But if it's King Bertrand's ego you're worried about, take it up with him, see if he has any issue with it."

I'm not expecting this to work, but she scurries away, and I exhale as I watch her go. I turn back to Rajnish, but he's not meeting my eyes, and I wind up looking down at the square instead.

Being a king can't really be like being another piece, I know. Command wouldn't have deliberated so long if they weren't fundamentally doubtful this would actually work. What will it be like, if I truly can't die, only see my--our--kingdom collapse in defeat? Perhaps kings are as removed from us as we are removed from our brothers and sisters without this curse. If true defeat lies not just in death, but having to remember how you brought it about...

But then she's back, scowling. "We're going to need to clarify the rules, you understand."

"You mean after this game?" I smirk, and I know we've won.

Then the change comes over me, and I almost fall over off the board. Which I'm pretty sure would be an inauspicious start to a coregency--I'm not sure if it counts as a resignation if only one of the two kings is tipped, but no sense taking chances.

I determine to my satisfaction that I'm a woman king, but there's a cross pattée on my head. King Rajnish' face seems distorted, and I realize that I'm seeing him at eye level for the first time. For all the bowing, the respectful salutes and handshakes, even when I had imagined dancing with Bertrand it had always been being swept into his arms from a little curtsy. Never standing tall as an equal.

King Rajnish paces to his left. A new message from Command explains that I'm not to move, just lock down the row and preserve symmetry; out of the corner of my eye, I see Nimh the rook leap to his side, pushing Rajnish back the way he came.

Finally, Nimh closes in, pacing up to the sixth rank to checkmate King Rajnish. "All hail the new regime," he shrugs. "Too much to hope for that your internecine squabbling dissolves the state?"

"What state?" calls Bertrand. "We're kings of...Nimh, here, and that's it."

"You can just resign next time?" Nimh ventures.

"If it weren't for these farces I'd never get out of the box," says Rajnish. "'White to win in three.' Your superiors petition for a loophole..."

"We're closing the loopholes, not introducing new ones," I defend myself. It's the best I can offer.

"Worth going through the motions. Besides, whoever keeps leaving you in such bizarre positions but can't clinch the win is going to have to blunder a win away at some point. Right?"

"I don't think that's how it works," Bertrand says.

"Easy for you to say. Hope is all I've got."

I've got chills for no reason but I'm alive and in one piece, and I look more or less like myself, so that's a start, I figure. Shaking, I come to and look around. Sure enough, I'm on the seventh rank yet again, and the eighth stretches out open before me--another chance to step forward and promote? Slowly, I remember the game before, and something tells me the authorities won't be as patient with any dreams of kingship this time.

My rank is empty, there's no one directly behind me. But I don't feel quite as alone as I did last game. King Rajnish is a couple squares to my left, pacing his square and lost in thought. Two of my allies, Berhanu the knight and Nuru the bishop, are on the row behind me. And ahead of me, just to my right--in capturing distance--is Catahecassa the rook, brandishing a weapon and staring off into the distance. I'm not sure if he notices me, either.

Instinctively, I check myself for messages from Command. There's just the one; The first step is yours to discover. After that...stand by and let us think it over.

Great. I turn around. "Hello! What's up?"

"Hikaru!" Nuru smiles. "How are you?"

I give a weak shrug. "Can't complain, I guess."

"You guess?" Berhanu laughs. "Something tells me you'll find a way if you put your mind to it."

"Maybe I have to promote first, to a role that's entitled to complain."

"Ooh, are we moving ahead?" asks Nuru.

"I have no idea. What do your instructions say?"

"Just something about taking the first step."

We compare notes, and of course it's the same thing. "Are they really letting us make moves ourselves? That seems pretty lenient of them."

"I haven't checked...well, if they've checked," says Berhanu. "Maybe we don't have much choice."

"That's a good point," Nuru says. "Where's King Bertrand gotten to?"

We look behind us, at our home rows, but there's no sign of him--save for Nimh lounging in the back row, most of the original white half is barren. Behind Berhanu and Nuru, the fifth row has several more of our army, but still no sign of the king. Did splitting power really wound his pride?

Instinctively, I gasp when I see him, huddling in the h8 corner. Catahecassa is holding him in check, silently patrolling the back row. "Your Highness! Is everything all right?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Berhanu snaps. "Everything is not all right, he's in check."

"I knew that. Just--should we be trying to break him out? Prepare a counterattack?" I don't want to start calculating what this might have to come to. Even though it's my job, there are some parts I shouldn't have to remember.

Nuru puts on a fake smile and starts going through the motions. "One step at a time. Can Bertrand escape on his own?"

"Not along the back rank he can't," Berhanu helpfully points out.

"I knew that," I mutter. "And--er--ah. It looks like Queen Melanie has the seventh rank on lockdown, so he can't move there either."

"Well, we're not mated, are we?" says Nuru. "Can anyone get between Catahecassa and Bertrand, on g8?"

Berhanu glances around. "Only Queen Zahra."

"Her Highness is here?" I blurt. Maybe I won't have to promote after all.

"She's standing right behind me."

"Awesome! Okay."

"But if Zahra interposes," Nuru squints, "Queen Melanie captures her. Then with her and Catahecassa side-by-side, Bertrand's mated for sure. So that loses."

"Then the only thing we can do to not lose next turn," says Berhanu, "is to send someone to capture Catahecassa. Right now."

They're not looking at me when they say it.

I'm not naive--I know what game we're playing, and it's not Go Fish. But dreams of glorious battle come easier when you've started from the beginning and when you'll go back to being just another nameless unit in the end. I assume. "Okay," I gulp. "If it's the only way..."

"Wait," says Berhanu, and I freeze. "You'll have to promote when you get there, right?"

"Yeah," I say, reaching for the message again. "That's the second thing, isn't it? Don't choose on my own, wait for them to decide."

"Sounds like a plan," says Nuru.

"Goodness knows we can't be entrusted to make our own decisions around here," I say.

Others can capture as they move, walking onto a square and throttling whoever has the displeasure of being in their way, but I have to make sure I leap diagonally. Technically in this case it doesn't matter--try to push forward while Bertrand's still in check and I'll be blown back--but it's good to get in the habit of leaving no doubt. I crouch, pivot, then go whirling forward, spinning onto Catahecassa's square as I grit my teeth. I must look somewhat less impressive than the situation calls for, coming to the rescue with my own nerves pent up. At a dead run, I charge forward to where Catahecassa is standing, eyes still fixed on Bertrand, and seize him by the arm. He pulses under my grip--once, twice, sweating slightly in the wind--and then he's gone, and I'm clenching empty space.

I barely have a moment to catch my breath before she's back, the arbitrator. "Oh," she says, glancing around at the void where Catahecassa had just been, "it's you."

"The feeling's mutual," I pant.

"Please let us know at your earliest convenience what you'll be promoting to."

"I just captured a man. Give me a minute."

"Of course. But please note that the rules have been clarified--you can't be a king this time." She rolls her eyes.

"Noted," I say, and sit down.

Another message from Command is already there. Well done. Stay where you are and we'll get back to you.

From the back rank I glance around at the remains of the black army. There's Queen Melanie, of course. Senka the pawn is on the h-file this time, but she's not going anywhere; Goizargi, our pawn, has stopped her. Other than King Rajnish, that's it.

"Thank you," Bertrand mouths from the corner.

My pleasure would be taking it too far. "Just doing my job. What's happening?"

He squints down at Melanie. "Once they make up their mind what to do with you, I assume her highness moves to check me again."

"You don't really have much room to move, do you? And Zahra can't interpose here."

"I suppose someone can capture her this time."

"Someone like you?

"Or Zahra or Nuru or Bishop Konani. Preferably one of them."

I snort. "You don't want to get your hands dirty?"

"I can handle it But as it is, Rajnish has almost nowhere to move already--he's close to stalemated. Sacrifice Melanie, and black will be almost out of moves. If someone besides me captures, they'll be far enough away from Rajnish that they won't be guarding him so tightly. So he should be able to move again, and then we take over with giving check."

"He can't move again."

"What?"

"Not if I'm guarding him, he can't. No matter what I promote to, Melanie chooses where to attack, and then it doesn't matter who captures her...he's still...oh." I squint down, glancing to see whether Command has come through.

Sometimes, the smartest choice is to be a dummy.

"Yeah. Okay. Hey! I'm staying right here."

"What?" calls the arbitrator.

"I'm promoting...to a pawn."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not a king, am I? I'm just going to park myself right here. I don't need to move again."

"This isn't--"

"What you had in mind for promotion I'm sure but it's not ruled out either. Maybe you want to look into that. Anyway, I'm tired, I've had a long day, I've just captured someone and it's weighing on my conscience, I think I'm just going to stay here a good long while and contemplate life."

And I stand up, surveying the domain--not my domain, but the domain. Has any pawn ever had such a view, looking back from the eighth rank to the world behind them? I'd dreamed so often of being able to turn around and glide in any direction that the thought of peering over the edge had little appeal. But there it was behind me, another void like the box that perhaps, the captured pieces--or those who'd never made it into the puzzle--were maybe already filling in.

Nuru gasps. "Now what?"

"Now," says Queen Melanie--the black monarch looming next to her--"you die."

"Really?"

"I have no idea, to be quite honest. I'm in favor of that plan, because it doesn't get me killed immediately, but you're the only one stopping milord from taking flight to yonder d8. I think I can give a few more checks, kill off your knightly friend Berhanu--"

"I say!" Berhanu interjects.

"But then her highness Zahra presumably kills me off, and you lot are on the offensive once more."

"That's right," calls King Rajnish. "Let's stop this farce before it starts. Well," he gives me a once-over, "continues."

"I like the view," I protest, "feel free to keep going."

"Awfully magnanimous by your standards, isn't it?" King Bertrand asks.

"After seeing what capturing did to Hikaru's psyche? I don't think I want to put anyone else through that."

And in defeat, it's the one grace he can spare.

I don't have regrets or nightmares to haunt. My moves are Command's, and between games, we're all neighbors in the same box. Catahecassa's face, staring me down at capture distance, isn't something to fear.

It's the starkness of the board that does it. I'm there on the seventh rank, and Catahecassa is standing in the corner--he might have been there all along, silently. To my left, King Rajnish is up against the wall. To my right, Nimh the rook is armed. Two ranks behind us, King Bertrand braces himself at the wall. The five of us are alone.

Before I can look down, Nimh is whispering at me. "Command says keep it brief; mate in one."

"Catahecassa..." I trail off. No. We're too close-packed. Something's wrong.

"Ignore him. You just step forward, discovered check."

"That's not..."

"What are they gonna do, capture me? Nobody can take me from here. Interpose? No, he can't get in there. And Rajnish can't move to the rank below us, Bertrand's too close."

"Nimh," I hiss, "I step forward, and Rajnish captures me. That gets him out of check."

I know I'm not supposed to be scared of being captured. It happens to all of us. Well...no, not all of us. I've been a king, been above the fray.

But I'm pretty scared that I don't see a mate in one. I can already imagine the arbitrator snidely informing me that underpromotion to a dummy pawn is not going to be acceptable, but even that won't matter. A pawn with nowhere to run is easy prey for Rajnish too.

He shrugs. "See for yourself."

I look down, but the note only says, Ignore the capture. Move to b8.

I turn back to King Bertrand. "Your highness?"

And he's giving me a distant salute, looking down. "Your sacrifice will be honored, Hikaru."

"Sir--we need mate in one. This isn't enough time."

"Go," he thunders, and so help me, I listen. Maybe monarchies are overrated--maybe I'd be better off voting alongside the other pawns, making decisions together, so nobody can break our trust--but in the moment there's only us, and I obey.

I walk forward, standing next to Catahecassa, and within moments the bureaucracy is on my case. "What'll it be? And please note, you need to promote to a queen, rook, bishop, or knight. No kings, no pawns."

"I have no idea!" I protest, and glance down at the next note. A knight. "A knight? A knight won't help! Sorry, your highness," I look over at King Rajnish, who's regarding me with bemusement from a very close distance, "but it's true."

Just pass this off to the authorities. They'll know what to do.

Shaking my head, I hand the note over. The usual onlooker reads it, then rolls her eyes. "We're going to need to close that loophole, too."

"What loophole?" I protest, but before I can speak, I feel myself changing again.

I rear back, a horse springing to life underneath me. I adjust myself, looking around in the saddle, and feel the weight of my armor settling in. Gently, I pat the horse's mane until it settles down, and rein it in. That's a knight promotion, all right.

And there's Nimh, proudly giving discovered check. But it's all for nothing; King Rajnish can still capture me. Can't he?

Instead, he just offers a quiet "Well done" to Nimh.

That's when I look down at my armor. I'm wearing the colors of the black army.

"What did you do to me?" I round on Bertrand. The king, but maybe not my king, anymore.

"I promoted you," he said, "into a knight, as the rules demand."

"And they don't demand my allegiance?"

"Not yet," hissed the arbitrator.

"Oh do go away," Bertrand grinned, "don't rain on our parade."

"Not 'ours,' sir. Yours. I lost. You abandoned me, and I lost."

"There are sacrifices that get made--"

"For what, for mate in one? We'd have won that game if you just play it out by the rules. Let him capture me for all I care, Nimh gives mate the normal way anyway. Take my life if you have to, don't throw away my win and make me lose with them!"

"Sacrifices to push the game forward, to become something great! Nobody remembers the pawns who mate in five, people will know you as the first of your kind!"

"People will know I'm a loser. That isn't what I'm supposed to be."

"What am I supposed to be?" asks Catahecassa. "A loser every time?"

"I don't know! I'm sorry, I'm--a bad loser--I'm not used to this."

King Rajnish--my liege now, if only now that it's too late--laughs softly. "I like your spirit. Our team could use a dose of that."

"Because--well--"

"Because we always lose, we know."

"It's not fair."

"It won't happen again!" the arbitrator yells.

King Rajnish shrugs. "So that's good, right? Nobody else will have to go through what you did?"

Is that my sacrifice, to be the only one of my kind, the first and most famous? I want to be glad the rules are fixed, to be done with losing forever, but I feel like I've barely gotten to know my new defeated teammates as teammates. So I tell the truth. "I don't know."

I wake up and the rows before me are empty, full of potential. Both of them--I'm only on the sixth row. The e-file this time. Turning around, I see a slew of pawns from both teams, many stopped. King Rajnish is between myself and King Bertrand, who appears to have spent the entire game cooped up at home. No, I tell myself, if nobody can prove otherwise, he gets to claim the royal privilege of announcing that he hasn't gotten off the throne.

Nimh the rook is in his corner on the queenside; Lucia, our other rook, is in her corner, closer to Bertrand. All of the other major pieces have been captured.

Step ahead, the message from Command reads. Mate in three.

Unambiguous, for once. I move ahead to e7.

Only Sauda, one of the black pawns, is in earshot, so I call back to her. "What's happening?"

"If I step forward, your friend Goizargi just eats me right up. Nobody else can move, so I think it's up to King Rajnish. He's going to step to d3, or move to f3."

"f3?" I squint. "Who's there?"

"One of the pawns."

"Not Branwen!" I gulp.

"What choice does he have? If he doesn't take her now, you queen yourself."

"Would be a long time coming."

"Then my friend Senka offs Branwen, otherwise you probably come down your file and trap Rajnish."

I squint, visualizing. Yes, a queen would be strong enough to do it. The one eventuality I'd planned and planned for might finally take root. "But if Branwen dies either way..."

"Bertrand just castles kingside. 0-0-0."

"Because we haven't ruled it out." And Nimh would trap Rajnish on the d-file, with me preventing him from fleeing to the right. "Mate in three."

Sauda nods. "Looks like Branwen's a goner."

And sure enough, Rajnish moves to his side. Little Branwen the pawn stares up at him with wide eyes as he touches her shoulder, pushing down as if to dub her with a new name, before she fades from view.

I look back at my note from Command. You want to secure this file. Don't be too weak, but leave your options open.

Locking down the file...not a task for a bishop or a knight. Is there any reason not to be a queen? Avoiding stalemate, but black has plenty of moves left. Don't they?

And yet I feel flashes of memory rushing back at me. When the right to castle was in question, everything revolved around who I was. Maybe a tower could be strong enough, after all.

I stride onto the eighth rank, where a list of rules is helpfully posted. No kings, no pawns, no defections. This means you.

"Yeah yeah yeah," I say. "Rook, please!" Be confident and get it over with quickly, that's what I need to do, before anyone gets too familiar with me.

And sure enough, they don't even send the usual woman to deal with me, just a man who's taken aback at my confidence but nods. Moments later, I'm rising up, towering over the pawns in the backfield, and staring ahead. I'm the third white rook on the board, and the file is mine to command.

"Now what?" I call back, and my voice carries.

Sauda's voice is weak from the distance, but I can see the strategies unfolding. "Give us a minute, we're thinking. Rajnish can't go back the way he came, since you've got that file under lockdown. I'm the only one who can move. So I can push forward now, I guess..."

"And Goizargi takes you?"

"Worse. Bertrand just castles in the other direction. 0-0, and Lucia the rook mates Rajnish on the f-file."

"You can't rule that out, either!" I didn't feel pity--pity was not a tool in our line of work. Amusement, yes. "Oh, man."

"So I think Rajnish is going to move on his own. Look, there he goes." He was stumbling down to g2, threatening Lucia in the corner.

I glance down at my note again. Until proven otherwise, most things are possible. And then, Extend the pattern. Mate in three.

In all the variations Sauda had imagined, castling would have been legal because black couldn't prove that any of them had moved--Bertrand, Nimh, Lucia. 0-0-0 or 0-0, it didn't matter...

And then I heave a sigh. "Excuse me? I need to speak to the rules adjudicator."

She comes out and looks me over, looking unimpressed. "Hello? What's going on?"

"Do you know who I am?" I demand.

"...no. No, I don't."

"Good. Very good. Because I have some questions to ask you."

For the first time, she starts to look nervous, and I begin to smile. Interrogation is going to be fun. "My king down there. Bertrand." Still mine, after everything we'd been through--this was a new game, with new rules to bend. "Has he moved?"

"N-not to my knowledge, I can't prove--"

"That's right you can't, he's been threatening to castle both ways, hasn't he."

"Er, yes, but..."

"Is he in check?"

"Of course not."

"Are either of the e2 or e3 squares under threat?"

"No..."

"Am I a rook?"

"I...well..."

"Who am I?"

"You're a rook! Of course you're a rook! What kind of a question is that?"

"And have I made any moves? As a rook?"

"N...how should I know?"

"Er, we have evidence," said the bureaucrat who'd overseen my promotion, "this...this rook here, since its arrival on the board, has made zero moves as a rook. This is where the rook-shape entered play."

"Well, then," she echoes," No, you haven't."

"And," I press, "is there any piece on the orthogonal line between myself and my king?"

"No. Obviously."

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Then I invoke my right to castle." And before she can blink, I yell "King Bertrand! Start moving to e3."

He walks forward one step, and hesitates on the border--this will test the legality--but sure enough, he pushes through to e3 in another motion, and then I can set my own leisurely pace. 0-0-0-0-0-0. I walk back along the file, flanked by gaping pawns from both teams, and can't help smiling; this is my victory procession. For everything we've been through, there are still ways to surprise us.

As I move through King Bertrand's square, I pause, and he reaches out to shake my hand slightly. I take it, suddenly afraid I'll trip and make a fool of myself in this body, but a moment later I've passed him by, and I'm back on the second rank, where my journey must have begun. King Rajnish is waiting, shaking his head.

"I have to hand it to you," he says, "you keep finding new ways to do it."

"We're changing that rule too," calls the adjudicator.

And I release another breath. "Worth it." Then I glance over at him. "I mean--no. I can't speak for you."

"You can't speak for me even when you're on my team, that's a lesson well learned," he says. "But I understand."

"I would say 'good game,' King Bertrand offers, "but that may be a bit of a stretch. Until next time?"

"Thank you for the--encounter, if not the competition," says Rajnish. "And the opportunity to unite against a common enemy."

"A common enemy?" I blurt. "With all due respect, sir, I'd rather stay on my team and let you lead yours."

"You think I don't know when my pawns are cheering someone on? We all heard you sparring with the adjudicators. It's not any pawn who gets to fight back."

"Not any rook, either," says Bertrand. "Well done, Hikaru."

"Thank you," I say. "Both of you. It's an honor to fight alongside you."

"Watch out next time," says Rajnish, "those rules will tighten, you won't get any cute mates in three."

"Maybe not," I say. "But after what we've all been through, I think it'll be a game worth playing."