Work Text:
"Hey, Spock. Do you actually have fun playing chess with someone like me?"
At this single remark, uttered as casually as if asking about tomorrow's schedule, Spock ceased all movement as if stupefied.
Had any of those stubborn, conservative Vulcan elders witnessed this sight, they would surely have rebuked him with something like "How disgraceful—your red-blooded side is showing." Spock closed his mouth, which had been hanging open, and observed the speaker intently. Had Kirk—who was normally so emotionally expressive—allowed even a hint of his true intentions to show in those words, a response would have come immediately. While receiving Spock's gaze head-on, the speaker of those opening words—Jim Kirk, captain of the Enterprise and currently his opponent across the chess board—was studying the formation on the board and contemplating his next move as if nothing had happened...
"What was the intent behind that statement?"
What finally emerged from the logical alien's mouth was a question that failed to conceal his inner bewilderment.
If it had been a remark aimed at unsettling his opponent during the match, it had certainly fulfilled that role—yet Kirk kept his gaze fixed on the board with a troubled expression.
"It's nothing major. White bishop from d3H to d4H."
It truly must have been an insignificant remark in his mind. Spock interrupted his opponent, who seemed ready to proceed with the game while leaving everything vague, questioning him in a firm tone.
"If you have perceived any deficiency in my conduct, I would request that you communicate it without concealment, Captain. My behavior, at times, appears to constitute discourteous action within Terran cultural spheres, though I harbor no such intention..."
"Whoa, whoa, c'mon Spock. I really didn't mean anything deep by it. Don't take it so seriously."
The aquamarine eyes, having finally realized his opponent's "perturbation" at this late stage, captured Spock with a confused look.
"There's nothing wrong with how you've been acting. You're a perfect, top-notch chess player. If there's a problem... it's on my end."
Unable to comprehend the meaning of the answer finally given, Spock raised one eyebrow. Surveying the board again, he saw nothing unusual—if anything, perhaps a slightly advantageous position for himself, but no indication of problematic conduct such as cheating.
"...I fail to comprehend your statement's intent. Why have you arrived at the perception that 'I' am 'experiencing dissatisfaction with chess matches against you'?"
"Ugh, like I said, it's not that serious!!"
Kirk ruffled his blonde hair with a "this has gotten complicated" expression. He knew all too well that once things reached this point, this excellent Vulcan wouldn't budge until he obtained a satisfactory answer. And he was also keenly aware that since his own thoughtless remark was the origin of this situation, he was obligated to explain everything. Kirk spoke up, sounding utterly resentful.
"I heard from Chekov at lunch today. That our first officer is an excellent chess player at grandmaster level."
"That evaluation contains considerable exaggeration. Under the current Federation unified rules, the definition of GM requires an official annual rating of twenty-five hundred or above..."
"That's enough, Mr. Spock! Chekov's comment was just a figure of speech—whether you actually qualify as a GM isn't the point. What I'm trying to say is: you're someone who's really, really good at chess. So good that you're not satisfied with just playing against people—you wrote your own chess program and keep improving that AI by feeding back your own game results."
Spock recalled the match between Chekov and his self-made AI that had taken place several days prior. The navigation officer, a chess enthusiast who had shown intense interest in the AI built by his own ship's first officer, had volunteered to play against it. Kirk must have heard about the results of that experimental match from Chekov himself. While from Spock's perspective the match between his AI and the young officer—who possessed formidable skill not just aboard ship but even at fleet level—had been "a narrow victory at best," judging from Kirk's account, Chekov's perception as the opponent appeared to differ considerably.
"Unlike Chekov, I'm a total chess newbie. Honestly, I didn't really get what was fun about it until Chekov and the other crew taught me. Hell, before I came to the Academy, I used to make fun of it as some 'dusty old pastime'. So I wondered if a top player like you could really be enjoying matches against someone like that. ...If you feel like playing against the 'Captain' is some kind of duty as my 'First Officer,' I'd feel really bad about that. And even if you're trying to teach your AI various game records, feeding it data full of bad moves like mine would just be noise, right?"
At this point, Spock was finally able to comprehend the intent behind Kirk's statement.
While Kirk described himself as a beginner who had only recently learned the rules, there was considerable room for objection to him claiming the title of "beginner"—he possessed an innate talent for strategic management, had received dedicated and precise lessons from crew members known as formidable players within the fleet (with Chekov at the forefront), and had moreover reached a level where he could regularly play against Spock. But setting that aside, Spock shook his head firmly at his opponent's "misapprehension."
"Your concern is unfounded. I have never, to date, engaged in a match contrary to my own volition due to my duties as first officer or 'because you are my superior officer.' Whether I find matches with you enjoyable or not enjoyable is a determination with highly emotional components, making it difficult to respond definitively. However, I can state with certainty that the content of our matches invariably constitutes beneficial material that satisfies my intellectual curiosity."
"Oh, okay... well, if that's the case, that's good."
Despite receiving a favorable response, Spock tilted his head slightly at Kirk, whose voice had grown quieter and whose gaze had dropped.
"To begin with, there appears to be a fundamental misapprehension in your premise. The objective for which I am constructing a chess AI is not because I desire opponents stronger than myself."
Declaring this in a firm tone, Spock operated a panel beside the table bearing their ongoing chess game. A chess board rendered in phosphorescent holographic form materialized immediately adjacent to the physical board. Observing the pieces begin moving on their own without anyone's intervention, this was apparently the interface for the AI Spock had painstakingly created. Watching Kirk examine the luminous chess board before him with interest, Spock continued.
"Chess is defined in game theory as a 'two-player zero-sum finite deterministic perfect information game.' The characteristic of games in this classification is that, theoretically, look-ahead is possible, and if both players continuously make optimal moves, it can be definitively determined whether the first player or second player will win."
Kirk shrugged with a troubled expression at the content that sounded like an Academy lecture.
"You're suddenly getting into complicated stuff again, huh? ...Basically, as long as you keep making the best moves in chess, who wins is already decided before the game even starts."
"Precisely. However, as the number of options increases, complete look-ahead becomes impossible for typical sentient beings' capabilities. It is precisely because continuously making optimal moves is difficult that chess functions as a game. Conversely, an AI can consistently search for and derive the optimal move for any given board state in a logical manner. Therefore, if the sole objective were to create the strongest AI invincible against people, there would be no necessity to collect game records in this manner—one would simply need to program it to continuously execute optimal moves."
When Spock held his hand over the blue chess board, the pieces of each side began moving at tremendous velocity. Spock's chocolate-brown eyes, which had been following their movement for a while, peered into Kirk's bright blue eyes as they likewise watched the luminous pieces.
"However, AI opponents possess a critical deficiency when it comes to conducting such mind games."
"A critical deficiency?"
"You retreated your bishop during our earlier match. Why?"
Blinking in surprise at the sudden question, Kirk realized it referred to the actual game they had been playing just moments ago, and spoke in a resigned tone while looking at the neglected physical board beside them.
"...Why? Because if it stayed where it was, your queen would've taken it. Plus, if you'd cut in there, I figured it'd be a pain to deal with later."
Hearing this answer, the corners of Spock's mouth relaxed slightly.
"An AI opponent does not engage in such cognition. This is because an AI opponent merely continues to execute the optimal move at each given point in time."
Light flashed sharply in Kirk's eyes, apparently having immediately grasped what his counterpart was getting at.
"The maximum differentiation between people and AI opponents lies in the following: people engage in continuous, purposeful cognition directed toward the objective of their own victory, whereas AI cognition itself possesses neither continuity nor purpose. The moves made by such an AI opponent merely constitute searching through an enormous quantity of past game records for board states similar to the current situation, then selecting the move with the highest win rate from among them. The bishop you moved possesses the meaning of 'having been moved in anticipation of future disadvantage,' but the movement of a bishop by an AI possesses no meaning in itself, nor is it possible for us to read the AI's next move from that movement. This is because even the AI itself cannot determine what move it will make next until the board state at that moment is established."
"That's kinda like the ultimate 'playing it by ear,' huh."
Kirk spoke with something like pity in his voice while watching the luminous pieces continue their restless movement.
"Affirmative. Matches between AIs merely consist of moving pieces in an 'ad hoc' manner... incomprehensible to us. To borrow your expression, it could be characterized as a 'not fun' match."
When Spock snapped his fingers, the blue chess board vanished along with the tedious battle that had been taking place between the AIs.
"Originally, chess between people constitutes an intellectual game in which one predicts the opponent's thinking and reflects it in each player's moves to construct the battle situation. Conversely, constructing an AI for chess is an exercise in refining algorithmic construction skills—specifically, how to efficiently search through the billions and trillions of existing game records with minimal resources at high speed. For me, engaging in chess matches and constructing chess AI are activities with entirely distinct meanings."
Spock paused, then fixed his gaze directly on Kirk and continued.
"Your moves, while admittedly still unrefined, are stimulating—based on highly compelling strategies that others do not possess. To reformulate... I can confirm that I am indeed 'enjoying' continuing these matches with you."
Taking a black piece from the physical chess board, Spock advanced it forward without hesitation. Watching his white pawn being expelled from the battlefield out of the corner of his eye, Kirk flashed a challenging grin at Spock.
"Ha! Getting praised like this by a top player like you—I'm honored."
There was not a trace of the anxious demeanor from moments before in those words.
Between Kirk, his azure eyes shining with brimming confidence, and Spock, harboring the light of reason in his deep obsidian orbs, the thirty-two black and white pieces reflected a gentle glow.