Work Text:
Svetlana’s first memory is fear.
She suspects that this is everyone’s first memory. Not that she’s asked, of course not, but waking up surrounded by blank walls, a disembodied voice asking questions at you, how could it not be? Svetlana doesn’t think she could have felt anything other than afraid. She hardly even knew any other emotion.
Not until the door to the claustrophobic boardroom opened. Not until she the voice revealed itself to be attached to a normal human face, a face that caused a cascade of new emotions in her minutes-old brain. Suddenly there was love, and disgust, and anger, and joy, and fear became nothing more than a steady background hum. She trusted him. She knew that he would know what to do.
What she remembers most is that he was wearing a blue tie. Against the blinding white of the walls and the serious black of his suit, the blue had stood out, friendly, calming. Like he knew he would be meeting her there that day, knew she would be afraid, and had picked it out especially for her to show her that it would be alright. Like he’d known, even before she did, that she would love the soft sapphire color.
Of course, she knows now that the person who picked out that tie has no idea she even exists. She understands that the face that greeted her that day was nowhere near her savior, but Anatoly S., her slightly prickly coworker instructed to talk her through the orientation process by the higher-ups. Svetlana learns fast. She hasn’t been that disoriented, fearful new hire in ages.
She still thinks back on when she was, sometimes.
But now Svetlana is very good at her job! The posters on her office walls are testament enough to that. She earns one every time she completes a new “alpha program” — what that means, Svetlana couldn’t say, other than that she can finish them very efficiently, almost on instinct. What matters are the colorful posters covering every inch of her little office, most sporting cartoon animals, some with motivational sayings emblazoned across them. They make her workspace something to look forward to even on the bleakest of days.
Proper workplace etiquette demands that she enjoy each poster equally, and so, in the interest of fairness, Svetlana picks a new poster to be her favorite each day. It’s an important part of her morning routine, after she gets her coffee from the kitchen in A&A’s department and makes her way to her desk — Hello, pink dolphin with rainbows! Hello, horse running through a field! You’re my favorite today :)!
Secretly, she does like the ones with animals best. After all, how else would she know what any of them look like?
(Even more secretly, what she really wants is a poster of a yak. She only has a vague idea of what a yak might be, but she has a feeling she’d like them. She wants to request one next time she completes a program.)
Today, her favorite poster is a houseplant with a smiley face drawn on its pot. Text below the pot reads Every chess master was once a beginner. Svetlana doesn’t really know what that has to do with succulents, but she likes the plant’s little smiley face. She smiles back at it as her computer boots up. :)
Her morning routine is interrupted as her fingers brush the keys and there’s an unexpected clunk of metal hitting plastic. Svetlana glances down, properly taking in her outfit for the first time, and notices a ring on her left hand.
That wasn’t there yesterday!
Svetlana knows immediately that it’s a wedding ring. Her brain supplies the information with confidence the same way it does when she rewrites a line of code, or when she identifies a new animal on her posters. It’s a wedding ring. Svetlana walked into work wearing a wedding ring. Svetlana’s outie was wearing a wedding ring this morning and, in spite of FIDE policy, failed to take it off.
The right thing to do would be to report it — let Walter take care of the ring and Svetlana continue her day without distraction. At the very least, she should take it off while she works. But the thought of getting her outie in trouble gives her pause. Surely the ring means a lot to her, if she’s so attached to it as not to take it off. That Svetlana might put her in a position where she could lose it, or be reprimanded for it, makes her feel guiltier than she expects.
So Svetlana keeps the ring on and resolves to ignore it. She doesn’t care about her outie’s personal life! Svetlana’s job is to do well at work, and whatever she does once she leaves the severed floor is simply none of her concern. A wedding ring is no excuse not to focus on what really matters — finishing her latest program so that she might earn a new poster for her office.
She keeps her eyes off her hands, and gets to work.
U64 promotions = (bitboards[P] & RANK_7)
How long has her outie been married?
U64 attacks = KING_ATTACKS[from] & targets;
What is her husband like — or is it a wife? Is that allowed?
U64 Board::getRookAttacks(int square, U64 blockers) const {
return ROOK_ATTACKS[square][getRookKey(blockers, square)];
}
Who proposed? Was it extravagant, or just the two of them? What was the wedding like?
std::vector legal_moves;
legal_moves.reserve(MOVES_RESERVE_SIZE);
Do they have kids?
if (captured.has_value()) {
score = 10000 + MVV_LVA[moved.value().toInt() - 6 * (moved.value().toInt() >= 6)][captured.value().toInt()
- 6 * (captured.value().toInt() >= 6)];
}
By the time the clock hits five, Svetlana’s work output is far below its usual daily quota. She must be tired, she decides. Maybe her outie didn’t sleep well last night, which would explain the forgetfulness in the morning and Svetlana’s own wandering mind.
FIDE staggers exits so that there’s no chance her coworkers might meet in the parking lot. Svetlana is always the last one out. The office is nearly dark as she makes her way to the elevator.
When she wakes in it again the next morning, the wedding ring is gone.
This is a good thing. Svetlana’s outie must have realized her mistake one way or the other and corrected it appropriately. No one even needed to be punished for it. The work can go on uninterrupted.
Still, Svetlana’s good memory betrays her. The ring stays in her mind the way Anatoly’s blue tie does, a reminder of how much she’ll never fully understand.
Some time later — Svetlana never quite knows how much time later, hours or days or weeks, with how things blend together on the severed floor — Walter is in her office. He’s dropping off transcripts of chess games, of course. New games are always being annotated, which means that there are always new games for her to work into her code. Svetlana wants to think that they’ll run out of games eventually, but what does she know? She’s never played chess before.
Svetlana thanks him as he hands over the papers, the sound of her own voice surprising her slightly the way it tends to after days of working in silence. Then, on a whim: “Is my outie married?”
Walter actually laughs. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“But you know?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. Hey, why’s it matter to you?”
“I’m curious.” Svetlana resists the urge to touch her finger, as if to confirm the ring hasn’t magically reappeared on her hand. “My mind wanders sometimes.”
“Well, try to avoid it if you can help it. The less you know about your outie, the better for both of you.”
“You get to talk to your outie,” Svetlana accuses.
“For strictly work purposes. You really think he’d waste time on video telling me about his marital life?”
Svetlana’s face flushes. “But it can’t be all bad, if FIDE lets you do it—”
“It is.” Walter’s easy smile has vanished. “I’m speaking from experience, aren’t I? Trust me. It’s better not to think about it.”
Svetlana is silent.
Walter pats her on the back and pushes the stack of paper back towards her. “Get back to work, alright? You’re doing well down here. I’ll have to get started on your new poster soon.”
“Can it be a yak this time?”
“You’re still on about the yak?” Walter sighs. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” says Walter, turning to leave. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”
Walter always says this, and it’s never true. Svetlana sees Flo and Molokov far more than she ever does Walter. He doesn’t appear to know, or care.
And then Walter is gone, and the door is closed, and it’s just Svetlana alone in her office again, without any more answers than she had before.
Maybe Walter has a point. There are so many things Svetlana will never know, after all. It’ll only make her miserable to dwell on it. Maybe she’d be more miserable if she knew.
Her favorite poster today is a sapphire blue chicken. She smiles at it, just once :), before getting back to work.