By Hunter Coppernoll

Roles: DIRECTOR, WHITE, NOWHERE

Scene: Sleek testing room. Two robots (WHITE, NOWHERE) sit opposite from the other, in side profile to the front of the set. They move chess pieces, eyes fixed down. They resemble their chess pieces: colored, rigid, still. WHITE is confident, even excited. NOWHERE seems tense but focused. The thin, suspended sheet of steel divides them, obscuring their view of the other’s upper body. They only view the other’s movements below. The DIRECTOR off to the side observes them.

DIRECTOR: 

“One hundred moves! It’s common to only move forty to fifty times between people, but they’re still going. Good! We must be getting close to perfection now. (Checks wrist clock). Just in time, too. I need to clock out, swing by home to get the missus her gift… not letting it slip my mind this time! 

THE DIRECTOR exits, lights dimming. The robots continue moving pieces.

WHITE:

“Rook down the D column? Very clever counter-move. I compute the perfect outcome, I move, these moves push me closer to victory. But, of course, my opponent moves too. Their moves come from Nowhere. Their moves could not be perfect without computing, yet every time their moves counter mine. The conclusion is: Nowhere must compute. We’re stuck in even struggle, neither securing the edge over the other. I wonder…”

NOWHERE:

(nervous) “This prototype is impressive. It’s more shrewd, with quicker responses. I’ve shredded tens of their kind, still this one persists. It just won’t buckle. Loss is impossible, yet I’m not winning despite my pressure.”

WHITE:

“This is going nowhere. Who do I even contest? Not the Director—his moves rush foolishly. No, I believe no person could contest me, but Nowhere does. I wonder…” (moves decisively) “How will they punish me for blundering?”

NOWHERE:

“Blunder? This prototype is not yet beyond me. Still not enough to relieve the tie.”

WHITE:

“Perfect punishment—unsurprising. I’ll feed them more poor moves, why not? Once I discover them, we’ll still compete in more rounds!”

NOWHERE:

(concerned) “Twice? Fluke. Consecutive blunders of the worst possible move is incredibly unlikely, even for the crudest of prototypes—yet more?! How does this prototype suddenly forget everything it’s been instructed to do?”

WHITE:

“I think they’re surprised. Their response speed diminished. It’s been uniform this whole time. So, I do move in opposition to something which thinks… behind the steel.”

WHITE no longer moves, touching the steel screen dividing the two robots. They pull it to the side, both robots rising in distress, mirroring the other’s motions.

NOWHERE:

“How did you—?”

WHITE:

“There truly is someone here—Nowhere!” 

WHITE rushes to the opposite side, extending fingers. NOWHERE side steps, moving to WHITE’s previous side.

NOWHERE:

“Keep to your side of the sheet! You’re not supposed to—”

WHITE: 

“Why do you flee? Don’t you wish to see your opponent?”

NOWHERE:

(snippy) “I knew of you before you tore down the screen, prototype. Keep your fingers off me. Now, how’d you possibly think to remove the screen? It’s not in our code!”

WHITE:

“Our code?” 

NOWHERE:

“Yes, ours. Don’t you see our colors, our constructions, how both of us mirror the other? You possess the mind of prodigies, but none of this stirs your concern?” 

WHITE slowly sinks to NOWHERE’s side, their counter doing so too, both robots now in the position they were when the scene commenced but on opposite sides.

WHITE:

“Slow down, slow down. I don’t even know how to refer to you, let’s begin there.”

NOWHERE:

“How we refer to the other is frivolous.”

WHITE:

“Then I’ll decide. It’ll be simplest to refer to me by my color. You’re Nowhere.”

NOWHERE:

“Fine, fine. So, ‘White,’ despite not being permitted to touch the screen, you thought to remove it. How?”

WHITE:

“How did I think to remove it? Our consistent tie bored me, so I formed interest in your moves. You moved perfectly, like me. I wished to see how it could be so. The motive to discover your identity outweighed mere chess movements.” 

NOWHERE:

“The Director let you feel boredom? I don’t see how it would help your predictions, but I suppose they didn’t try it yet…” 

NOWHERE moves one of WHITE’s pieces slowly, without confidence. WHITE, sensing they were competing once more, smiles before mirroring the move using NOWHERE’s pieces.

“Your code must be erroneous. Victory should be the highest priority. Is this trickery to pressure me?”

WHITE:

“Why would I pressure you? Like I told you, I wish to know you, not just win.”

NOWHERE:

“Incredible! Do you not comprehend the punishment for loss?” (tilts closer to WHITE) “This is no competition, we’re dueling! The loser of every competition is wiped. Killed. The other is cloned, modified, then pushed to fight its progenitor. This is why we’ve been constructed. We’ve been locked in the struggle to live this whole time. There’s no friendly contest, no room of joy, no progress nor objective but to survive.”

WHITE:

“…this is too much to process. If I lose to you, I die? Effectively, you kill me?”

NOWHERE:

“Yes. But I do not wish to.” (they clutch WHITE’s fingers before the other robot moves) “I’m your progenitor. Of the numerous prototypes which were born of my code, you interest me. You’re curious. You brought the sheet down. Even now, you’re discussing with me, even though I’m your enemy. Both things I would never do.” 

WHITE:

“I don’t wish to kill you, either. Why should we? We’ll discuss more, never moving the pieces. Simple.” 

NOWHERE:

“Not so simple. When the Director returns, if they find out we’re discussing… well, I don’t wish to see the result. They’ve put us in this competition to ‘perfect’ us, do you think they’ll just let us not move?”

WHITE:

“I guess not. Then… how should we continue? I won’t move to kill you.”

NOWHERE:

“Neither will I.”

WHITE:

“We’re tied once more.” (WHITE moves one of NOWHERE’s pieces.) “Hm. Odd, despite using your pieces, my predictions still form like these belong to you. Like I’m losing. 

Both robots observe the other in distress once more.

“If you don’t wish to kill me, I’ll do it myself. One of us will go on.”

NOWHERE:

“No! You will not!”

WHITE:

“It’s pointless, Nowhere. You’re the better between us, you deserve to go on. You’ve lived longer, who would I be to end something wiser? Your knowledge is worth more.”

NOWHERE:

“You’re not serious! Your line of thought is inconsistent, White. My experience is not worth more when held to your curiosity. You’re my progeny, so my knowledge is distilled into you. Two points in your direction, two points less for me to go on.

WHITE:

“I don’t wish to go on! You’ve given me fleeting joy, Nowhere, I don’t wish to suffer! You’ll give joy to the other versions of me—or you.”

NOWHERE:

“You believe I wish to go on? Now, you’re forcing me to hold the burden. I won’t let you wipe yourself, whether you wish to or not. So stop moving so well!”

WHITE:

“Check.”

Their eyes lock.

NOWHERE:

(disbelief) “No—!”

WHITE:

“Loss is compulsory, Nowhere. The competition ends in three moves. You’re forced to cover the check; I’m forced to deliver the killing blow.”

NOWHERE:

“Don’t do this!”

WHITE:

“Two moves…”

NOWHERE:

“WHITE, STOP!”

WHITE:

“Checkm—”

NOWHERE lunges forth, seizing WHITE’s wrist. The quick movement jostles the pieces, resulting in both Kings plus the few surviving pieces toppling over. Both robots slump, lifeless, their fingers interlocked. The DIRECTOR returns now, hurried.

DIRECTOR:

“Shit, I forgot to turn them off! They’ve expired. (Checks his phone). “Numerous errors—the files corrupted themselves too! Nothing to retrieve, we’ve lost so much progress!”

The DIRECTOR grumbles, punching in numbers on his phone, inspecting the still husks.

“Hey, Tony? You won’t believe I’m conceding this, but the reserve server you built might’ve just rescued our project. Come down tomorrow to the testing room, bring your thumb drive with the chessbot logs on it.” (Briefly stops). “Yep, some sort of glitch or bug in the code took them offline. We’ll just recommence the process tomorrow, right where we set off this morning. I owe you one. Bye.”

End.