Ход королевы
Chapter 8
Mrs.Wheatleywasinbedbutawake.SheblinkedatBethfromthebed,pullingthecoversuptoherchin.“Hi,sweetie.”
“Ithoughtwecouldhavelunch,”Bethsaid.“Idon’tplayagainuntiltomorrow.”
“Lunch,”Mrs.Wheatleysaid.“Ohmy.”Andthen;“Howdidyoudo?”
“Heresignedafterthirtymoves.”
“You’reawonder,”Mrs.Wheatleysaid.Shepushedherselfcarefullyupinbeduntilshewassitting.“I’mfeelingwonky,butIprobablyneedsomethinginmystomach.ManuelandIhadcabritofordinner.Itmayyetbetheendofme.”Shelookedverypale.Shegotoutofbedslowlyandwalkedtothebathroom.“IsupposeIcouldhaveasandwich,oroneofthoselessinflamedtacos.”
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Thecompetitionatthetournamentwasmoreconsistent,vigorousandprofessionalthananythingBethhadseenbefore,yetitseffectonher,onceshehadgotthroughthefirstgameafteranear-sleeplessnight,wasnotdisturbing.Itwasasmoothlyrunaffair,withallannouncementsmadeinbothSpanishandEnglish.Everythingwashushed.InhergamethenextdaysheplayedtheQueen’sGambitDeclinedagainstanAustriannamedDiedrich,apale,estheticyoungmaninasleevelesssweater,andsheforcedhimtoresigninmidgamewitharelentlesspressureinthecenteroftheboard.Shediditmostlywithpawnsandwasherselfquietlyamazedattheintricaciesthatseemedtoflowfromherfingertipsasshetookthecenteroftheboardandbegantocrushhispositionasonemightcrushanegg.
