Once he came to, like a man who has been asleep, to realize that he was wondering whether the lights were still blinking behind the screens while he was making his move. Did the Machine really analyze at such times or were the lights just an empty trick? He forced his mind back to the problems of the game, decided on his move, checked the board twice for any violent move he might have missed, noted on his clock that he'd taken five minutes, checked the board again very rapidly and then put out his hand and made his move--with the fiercely suspicious air of a boss compelled to send an extremely unreliable underling on an all-important errand. Then he punched his clock, sprang to his feet, and once more waved for Vanderhoef. Thirty seconds later the Tournament Director, very red-faced now, was saying in a low voice, almost pleadingly, "But Bela, I cannot keep asking them to change the screens. Already they have been up twice and down once to please you. Moving them disturbs the other players and surely isn't good for your own peace of mind. Oh, Bela, my dear Bela--" Vanderhoef broke off. Grabo knew he had been going to say something improper but from the heart, such as, "For God's sake don't blow this game out of nervousness now that you have a win in sight"--and this sympathy somehow made the Hungarian furious. "I have other complaints which I will make formally after the game," he said harshly, quivering with rage. "It is a disgrace the way that mechanism punches the time-clock button. It will crack the case! The Machine never stops humming! And it stinks of ozone and hot metal, as if it were about to explode!" "It _cannot_ explode, Bela. Please!" "No, but it threatens to! And you know a threat is always more effective than an actual attack! As for the screens, they must be taken down at once, I demand it!" "Very well, Bela, very well, it will be done. Compose yourself." Grabo did not at once return to his table--he could not have endured to sit still for the moment--but paced along the line of tables, snatching looks at the other games in progress. When he looked back at the big electric board, he saw that the Machine had made a move although he hadn't heard it punch the clock. He rushed back and studied the board without sitting down. Why, the Machine had made a _stupid_ move, he saw with a rush of exaltation. At that moment the last screen being folded started to fall over, but one of the gray-smocked men caught it deftly. Grabo flinched and his hand darted out and moved a piece. He heard someone gasp. Vanderhoef. * * * * * It got very quiet. The four soft clicks of the move being fed into the Machine were like the beat of a muffled drum. There was a buzzing in Grabo's ears. He looked down at the board in horror. The Machine blinked, blinked once more and then, although barely twenty seconds had elapsed, moved a rook.