A game of backgammon unlocks another one of Yale's memories. (Prompt: 014 Table)

Earth 2 is the copyrighted property of Amblin Entertainment and Universal Studios. This fiction item is intended for entertainment purposes only. No compensation has been received or will be accepted for it, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended or should be implied.

Memory Games

True looked up at Yale, her eyes uncertain. "So this is called four-two, right?"

"Right," he answered. "A four on one die and a two on the other. Now, how do you move?"

She was more confident as she answered. "One checker goes four points and one goes two."

"Exactly."

The girl considered the backgammon set on the table. It wasn't the best quality, since it was made from pieces of scrap wood that he'd salvaged and wood-burned, but it worked well enough.

Uly snorted when True began moving one of the irregularly-shaped checkers. "That's not the way to do it."

"Yes it is! I'm moving it four points, just like I'm supposed to."

"Yeah, but you ought to move that one two points." He pointed to another piece. "That's the one you ought to move four."

"Why?" Her voice was starting to rise.

Yale kept his own voice patient and even. "True, try to think a couple of moves ahead. What do you think Uly will do on his next move?"

"How'm I supposed to know? He hasn't even rolled yet."

"Think about it anyway," he answered. "What if he got five-one?"

Uly started to answer but Yale shushed him. "Let her work it out."

With an air of pained tolerance, True studied the board again. "Well, if I were him, I'd move that one five points and that one, one."

"But this one is closer to his table. Why wouldn't he move that?"

"Because he'd get the one with five all the way off his table," she answered immediately. "And the other one will still be far enough away that he could move it off with either a two or a three."

"Right. Now, what if Uly rolled six-one?"

"Then he'd move that one, one point."

"Correct. Now, how can you block him from making the most advantageous move?"

"Yale!" whined Uly. "Don't help her!"

She glared at Uly before Yale could respond. "So you were right, and I just didn't see it before. So what?"

"Well, any moron could've figured it out," he said. "Probably faster'n you did."

"It's just a stupid game!" she shot back. "I have more important things to do most of the time. We're only even playing it 'cause we're snowed in."

"You're just jealous," Uly sneered.

"You're both cranky and tired. That's enough," said Devon from behind them. "Yale, how close is the end of the game?"

He only needed a glance. "At least six moves."

"Okay," she answered. "That'll take a little while, so you can finish the game tomorrow morning. Right now, it's time for bed."

That earned the expected protest from both children, but Devon stood firm and led them away. Yale picked up the backgammon board and moved it to a more secure location, careful not to disturb the checkers' positions. Then he sat, studying it for a moment himself, considering the potential scenarios.

In most of them, Uly won. True had held him off quite well, but she still didn't have the same grasp of strategy that he did. She was learning fast enough, though, that this point would be a perfect time to stop and teach them a bit of two-dimensional reasoning. After all, backgammon was a perfect example of game theory.

Yale frowned to himself. Game theory was a university-level topic. Why had it come to mind so quickly and easily when his job was tutoring elementary-age children?"

He shook his head. He was probably remembering something again. After the initial onslaught when the memory wash had broken, the rest of the memories had been coming back fragmented into bits and pieces. He'd learned to identify the signs when it was happening, but it still startled him whenever it did.

"Yale?" Bess was behind him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he answered too quickly.

"Are you sure?"

He took a breath. "I'm experiencing another memory. But I will be all right."

"Oh. What kind of memory?"

He indicated the game board. "Mathematical theories, studies that involved using backgammon as an example. I can…" he trailed off, letting the images clarify in his mind's eye. "I can see calculations on a screen, remember long conversations with fellow students. They became quite animated at times."

"You were studying higher math?" she asked. "Why?"

"I was in graduate school when…when things happened." It was still painful to refer to that time. "But I don't know what degree I was seeking."

"Maybe it was in math."

"Maybe," he allowed. "But there are several different reasons to study game theory."

She smiled. "I'll bet you were pretty smart, and pretty special too."

He took comfort from the gentle touch of her hand. "Perhaps."

"Then remembering's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I suppose," he said slowly. "The experience of a memory returning can be fairly chaotic." Yale realized he was still shaking a little. "It's not always pleasant."

"Well," she said, "it could've been worse. It could have happened when you were with the children, or driving a vehicle. Right now, it's safe."

Safe. The word seemed terribly ironic. "What could be safe about a broken memory wash?"

"What could be safe about trying to walk halfway across the continent?"

"You have a point," he admitted.

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "We're here, if you need help. There's no shame in asking. Maybe it'll all come together before spring. It sounds like you had a pretty interesting life."

He nodded, not trusting himself to respond.

"So," she asked. "What is game theory, anyway?"

That, he could answer. With a smile, he started to explain.