Page 36 of Desperate Games


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As for the pure mathematicians, they had proved themselves expert in working out on paper effective movements of fleets or squadrons, and some of them hoped to play an even more important role, at the time of the actual landings, with the establishment of operational research.

Yranne, however, who had contributed so brilliantly to the basic concept, left it at that for a while. But as the landings approached, he revealed that he was involved in something else. For several months, he had been gleaning as much information as possible here and there, comparing it, refining it, assessing it and applying calculations of probability to it. When he became virtually certain that the Alpha camp would prevail again, he staked large bets. Then, not being selfish by nature, he decided to let his friend Zarratoff profit from his knowledge.

He found him sitting at his desk, in his usual working posture, leaning over a map of the sky with different constellations on it. Apparently the astronomer had got back to his special field, which had been somewhat neglected of late, and was pursuing his cosmological research again. As he usually did, Yranne waited patiently until the other man had finished his calculations, which he was in the middle of writing on a notepad next to the map. It was only when Zarratoff raised his head, with a strange gleam in his pupils, that he revealed the purpose of his visit and told him about his predictions.

‘So? What’s your tip?’

‘The Alpha team. There’s a probability of ninety-nine per cent. You can place a large bet on it.’

‘Thanks. But I’ve already done that, because I knew.’

‘You knew?’

‘I also made some calculations and my conclusion is not simply a probability, however great that might be. It’s a certainty.’

‘A certainty?’

‘An absolute one.’

The astronomer gave a malicious little laugh, and Yranne realized that he would get nothing more out of him. So he did not try. The main thing was that the conclusions of their calculations were roughly similar.

Zaratoff fetched a bottle and the two of them drank to their anticipated success. They had a double reason for rejoicing, for their sympa

thies were with the clan of physicists, regardless of the winnings they were counting on as a reward for their scholarly calculations.

4.

After the shock of the first bombardment, the focus of the greatest interest shifted to the sky with the appearance of the fighters. Some of the Alpha physicists were rather beside themselves with surprise when they noticed that the enemy airplanes were almost as numerous as their own, as fast as them, and causing serious damage. There were two reasons for their surprise: firstly, they could never have imagined that the biologists would have been capable of building so many effective aircraft within one year; and secondly, what is more, their judgement had been clouded by historical memories and the idea of their enormous aerial superiority had become firmly fixed in their minds with the force of a scientific axiom. But the Betas, even if they had also studied history carefully, had shown imagination and concluded that they should focus their effort on fighter airplanes and on anti-aircraft defence, with the result that the sky was soon lined with the criss-crossing smoke trails of bombers that had been shot down. The result was new images which television transmissions were able to focus on to obtain amazing effects.

After about an hour and a half, when all possible variations of these effects had been exhausted, the cameras showed another aspect of the spectacle, concentrating on a different squadron of airplanes, flying at a higher altitude and going towards the interior of the continent. It was the parachutists, who were soon released in a more peaceful location, which was disturbed only by echoes of the distant bombing.

But there was another unpleasant surprise in store for Alpha, when the parachutists were no more than about a hundred metres from the ground: a new theatre of operations suddenly appeared from the shadows, illuminated by the harsh light from a network of powerful projectors, and just as this happened machine-guns started shooting lethal rounds at the easy targets presented by the men hanging on their lines.

‘Treachery!’ shouted Yranne.

And it did seem to be true that the Betas had been given precise information about all the landing areas, for the same spectacle occurred everywhere the parachutists were dropped, with the result that only very few reached the ground alive, where they were immediately massacred.

‘Treachery,’ O’Kearn repeated, looking suspiciously again in the direction of his colleague, Sir Alex Keane.

‘Treachery,’ the latter agreed, content with smiling in a self-satisfied way.

Indeed it was as a result of treachery that the secret plan for parachuting men in had fallen into the hands of the defenders. One of the directors of the game appeared on the screen and revealed the fact, adding a brief commentary emphasising that such actions were completely in accordance with the rules. The Nobel physiologists could not contain their enthusiasm and applauded excessively, drowning out the physicists’ protests.

This preliminary phase of the landings lasted much longer than predicted. As the Beta fighters managed to thwart the actions of the heavy bombers, many of the coastal batteries continued to fire, which created a certain disorder among the fleet and paralysed it for most of the day, while the Alpha command, using up its reserves, brought in other airplanes, dive bombers this time, to smash the big enemy guns.

They managed to do it, but at the expense of heavy losses. Order was re-established in the convoys and the Alphas could continue with their plan. But it was not until nightfall that the first attackers could actually set foot on the continent, although they had been hoping to do so since morning, as history had suggested. But such vagaries only heightened interest. With renewed enthusiasm, the whole world greeted the fireworks display of the tracer shells spewed out during the night from the machine guns, which had been silent till then, and their carefully concealed bunkers that had resisted all bomb attacks. The Beta defenders had skilfully worked out what they needed to do and had organised a whole range of surprises for their assailants. The latter suffered fresh losses, but the survivors at least managed to set foot on the continent, advance a little, and dig themselves in, before unloading their equipment, the light things first, but then more and more heavy items: the tanks and artillery.

A furious battle thus took place on the beaches of Normandy, and the cameramen were hard put to follow all its phases, but they nevertheless managed to capture the most colourful elements: bouts of hand-to-hand combat between commandos in the shadows with furtive bursts of sub-machine guns and individual duels with knives. They also captured the destruction of nests of machine guns by flamethrowers, artillery duels, attacks and counter-attacks by tanks, the progression of the infantry as it crawled along followed by furious attacks. For three days and three nights, ever ruthless and without respite, the whole violent fantasy of the games unfolded before the amazed eyes of the world, with all its colourful nuances and striking contrasts. The television viewers did not experience a moment’s weariness, because the spectacle was so well composed, the production was perfect, the organisers had harmonised the disparate elements so consciously and artistically, and both teams’ players had shown such courage and fervour that they both deserved victory.

After three days of relentless fighting however, the members of the Beta camp were absolutely distraught. It seemed that, despite the efforts of their champions and the terrible losses inflicted on their opponents, the latter were managing to stay on the continent, reinforcing their ranks with more men and equipment and making further progress. The television showed that several beachheads were about to be joined up and that the Alphas were managing to establish a continuous and strong front, which would no doubt serve as a basis for a decisive attack. In the amphitheatre the physiologist Nobels could not disguise their anxiety and had mournful expressions. Among them only Sir Alex appeared wholly unconcerned, looking as serene as ever.

There were obviously secret reasons for his confidence and he was not to be disappointed. It was just as the physicists’ clan were beginning to claim victory and rejoice ostentatiously that a new development suddenly occurred, causing a huge sensation throughout the world and completely reversing the situation within hours.

The first sign was captured by a cameraman in a relatively quiet corner, amongst a group of opponents. While a few of the players were crowding around a big gun that had just been unloaded in separate pieces, one of them was seen to put his hand to his forehead, sway, and then collapse without a shot being fired. His companions, just as surprised as the television viewers, were moving closer to the body writhing on the ground when a second player was struck down in the same way. Soon there was a third one, then another, and yet another.

As one of the games directors had told them to be sure to look out for any unusual incidents, the cameramen checked other nearby groups. The same phenomenon was repeated in all of them: the Alpha players were falling like flies, some individually, and others in groups of two, three, four or more. An entire company was decimated within moments.

‘Treachery!’ O’Kearn bellowed this time. ‘I know who’s behind this…’

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