Twelve
Rural Virginia
Julian had slept very little the past night. He had been up until nearly one in the morning, playtesting Mikhail’s game. And
so had Klaudia. The little green check mark next to her name had pulsed there for hours. Julian had originally planned, petulantly,
to outlast her. But exhaustion had overtaken him just after midnight, weighing down his eyelids and fuzzing his vision. He’d
been forced to log off and collapse into bed, all while Klaudia’s check mark remained.
He was still frustrated with himself for once again coming up short against her. But it was the morning of his first simulation,
so he rose well before the sun did, dressed, and sat down at his desk. Mikhail was gone, having spent the night in Jane’s
room. For all his initial horror, the roommate situation was not nearly as bad as Julian had feared. Mikhail spent at least
half his time with Jane, leaving Julian plenty of privacy.
Trying to shake off the feeling of inadequacy that Klaudia always seemed able to provoke in him, Julian unlocked his tablet
and opened the rankings board. He was astonished to see that he had officially cracked the top ten.
It must have been his performance yesterday that sealed it. For the past week he had been approaching his professors individually
for extracurricular work. One of them, Professor Sokolov, had sardonically promised that he would elevate his ranking by five
if Julian could beat him in a game of chess. Julian had checkmated him in fifteen with the Ruy López.
Pride glowed in Julian’s chest, but it was short-lived. If he wanted to continue his climb, he had to win today’s simulation. Yet it might be a hopeless cause. As Professor Narendra had informed them yesterday, Klaudia would
be leading one of the teams. Julian wasn’t sure which would be worse—playing on Klaudia’s side, or playing against her.
But given that he was in his first year at Valeran and she in her third, he had precious few opportunities to face off with
her directly. Today’s simulation might be his only chance. He had been at Valeran for just over two weeks, but this weekend
he would be at home. All he had to do was win. Anxiously, Julian loosened and retightened the band of his watch. Before leaving
his room, he checked the Thymos app. Klaudia’s green check mark had disappeared.
He was too shaky with adrenaline to eat, so instead of stopping at the dining hall, Julian went straight to the practice room.
To his immense dismay, someone had beaten him there. Klaudia.
“Good morning,” he said, in a voice that he hoped was as flat and remote as hers normally was.
Klaudia acknowledged him only with a nod. He searched her face for signs of exhaustion, for cracks in the facade. Under the
humming fluorescent lights her skin looked especially pale, and it contrasted against her dark hair in a dramatic way. Julian
found himself staring for a moment too long.
As the silence between them stretched on, he felt compelled to speak. “It seems like you were enjoying Thymos.”
“It’s well-constructed. Mikhail is a good programmer.”
The more restrained Klaudia was, the more determined—or perhaps desperate—Julian became. “Did you build your team?”
Klaudia cast him a rather suspicious look, and then nodded. Before Julian could say another word, Professor Narendra arrived,
and the other students began to slowly trickle in after him.
One of them was the red-haired boy who had punched the wall. Unexpectedly, he made an immediate beeline toward Julian and stuck out his hand.
“Carter Egan,” he said, in a tone that seemed to assume Julian would already know his name.
After a moment’s hesitation, Julian took his hand. His palm was damp. “Julian Joyce-Young the Third.”
“I know,” said Carter. “Everyone does. No one has ever climbed the rankings as quickly as you have.”
“Except for Klaudia, I’d imagine.”
Carter’s expression soured. “If you keep going at this rate, you can still beat her record.”
Julian had always known boys like Carter. Exeter’s few and far-between scholarship students. Always with that hungry, sycophantic
look. Never achieving the subtlety and nonchalance they admired in their wealthy classmates. But with the way Carter’s gaze
kept flickering toward Klaudia, Julian suspected this was much more about his resentment toward her than any particular admiration
for or loyalty to him.
“We’ll see,” Julian replied, and then he strode pointedly to the other side of the room. Klaudia was standing at the far wall
by the window, holding her tablet but not looking at it. Her eyes, ever impassive, slid from Carter to Julian. Whatever she
felt—if anything at all—was impossible to guess, but she had not missed their interaction.
Professor Narendra startled them all by clapping his hands.
“Welcome to your first simulation,” he said. “As is custom, you will be divided into factions, each guided by an upper-class
student. Today you’re lucky to have two of our very finest to lead: Klaudia Shimonova and Carter Egan.”
There was some murmuring among his classmates, and swift, questioning glances between Klaudia and Carter.
“Since this is your first simulation,” Professor Narendra went on, “I’ll keep things simple—for now. Two factions. Klaudia and the red faction
will portray the USSR. Carter and the blue faction will play as the United States.”
More whispering, louder this time, as Professor Narendra divided the class. Julian could not determine any clear hierarchy
to his decisions; they appeared to be truly random. He had not even managed to decide which faction he preferred when Professor
Narendra said, “Julian, join red.”
Julian’s heart thumped. He wasn’t sure exactly how this would affect his ranking: On Klaudia’s team he would be sure to win,
but maybe it was more important for her to lose. Either way, he would find out soon enough. He crossed the room to where Klaudia
stood, surrounded by the other students in his faction. One by one, she passed out their badges. When Julian took his, his
fingers brushed against her palm and he felt Klaudia tense just slightly at his touch.
Klaudia placed the nodes on her temples and the simulation shuddered to life.
“The scenario will be an iteration of the current state of the world,” said Professor Narendra. “The US and the USSR locked
in a near-century-long stalemate. Proxy conflicts sparking across the globe. More states developing nuclear capabilities.
It is the goal of each faction to extend their sphere of influence as far as it can reach. At the end of the hour, the faction
with the most territory under their direct control will be the winner.”
Simple enough.
With a few more taps on his tablet, Professor Narendra projected a timer above the simulation map. Then he stepped back, smiled,
and said, “You may begin.”
Immediately, Carter beckoned his faction into a tight circle around him, and Klaudia did the same. Julian, being the closest, ended up nearly shoulder to shoulder with her, a mere inch of space between them.
To Julian’s surprise, she didn’t start by firing off orders. Instead she asked, “What’s the first thing you notice about the
board state?”
The other students glanced uncertainly among themselves. When Klaudia remained silent, waiting expectantly, Julian realized
that he had misjudged her. This was meant to be a learning experience for him and his fellow first years, and she was acting
like a teacher, not a general. It was no ego trip for her. She had nothing to prove.
“We have an obvious advantage in Latin America,” Julian said. “The straightforward play is to bring the rest of the states
under our sphere of influence. Moving into the Pacific is a riskier gambit, but the payoff would be greater. It depends on
the kind of player our opponent is. Do they respect the long con, or can we bait them into a corner if we hang our queen?”
Julian had slipped unconsciously into chess parlance, but Klaudia didn’t seem perturbed. He would bet his Rolex that she was
an exceptional chess player in her own right.
“Good,” she said, in a clipped tone that betrayed neither pleasure nor displeasure. “If we’re all in agreement, I’d suggest
pushing on the Philippines.”
A chorus of nods. Klaudia tapped her temple.
The map shifted, reflecting the Soviet incursion. From across the room, Carter’s gaze leaped. He couldn’t be naive enough
to fall into their trap immediately, but Julian took his eagerness as a good sign. If he had any weakness, it was his desperation
to defeat Klaudia. He would press any advantage he was given.
And so he did, instantly deploying troops to Manila.
“What now?” Klaudia asked. “Do we respond with force of our own, or do we back down? Remember, the US still has the advantage
in the region.”
“But it’s all about relative gains, isn’t it?” Julian’s answer came quickly this time. “Taking something away from your enemy is more valuable than gaining an absolute victory.”
An expression that was almost a smile crossed Klaudia’s face. “Yes,” she said. “A state has a greater incentive to respond
to their own loss than to their opponent’s gain. So if we want to bait blue into a check . . .”
“Then we call their bluff,” Julian finished.
Klaudia’s eyes lifted to meet his. There was an intensity in them that he had never seen before—or maybe that she had never
allowed him to see. This was her domain. The ice queen Klaudia Shimonova had fire in her after all.
But instead of feeling resentment, Julian felt an answering fire. A surging of adrenaline and . . . pleasure? He liked being
on her side. A part of him even liked being her disciple. For a moment he forgot about his ranking completely. All he could
focus on was the way her gray eyes glowed and the way her mouth—full, supple, carefully outlined in red—moved when she spoke.
He became more focused on winning her praise than winning against her. A sense of satisfaction tightened in him at the idea
that he might even coax a smile out of her.
“Maybe we could start with economic sanctions?” one of the other students suggested. His voice broke Julian from his trance,