Holmes has never really appreciated the benefits of my chronicling of his
adventures. For him each case is different and he believes what he calls
my sensationalist approach can only bring added confusion to the
logician. He has his own carefully indexed notes with which I
dare not interfere for fear of his temper.
I on the other hand, believe that my own
recording and studying of his past of his glories will help me to
understand and perhaps in some small
way imitate his genius.
And so it proved when a visitor from the immigration department arrived
at Baker Street. Holmes was away at the time, but the request was
straightforward enough that I was confident that I could deal with it.
Apparently a stowaway had been found on one of His Majesty's ships
returning from Port Suwat. The stowaway had applied to remain in England
for fear of torture in his homeland -- apparently the Sultan had taken a
certain dislike to the man's impertinent play in a standard game of
Diplomacy.
The immigration department, never having heard of any political refugees
from the Sultanate of Suwat, called the man's story into question, and
decided to refer to my friend Holmes for his opinion as to the validity
of the stowaway's tale.
It seems, according to the refugee,
that the other, wiser players who had taken part in the Diplomacy game
had made sure that they posed no threat to the Sultan -- two of them, in
fact, had no units remaining after 1901....
At this point in the story, I recalled my having written of
The Double Elimination
Conundrum, and I reached triumphantly for my file. A quick browse and I
was able to send the immigration inspector on his way, armed with Holmes' proof
that a double elimination was impossible, save in a variant such as "flexible
setup."
This was a fine test of the veracity of the refugee's story, for
by his claim that the game was standard he had exposed himself as a
lying rogue, apparently itent to make trouble for one of England's
precious allies.
The man's statement, which was left with me by my visitor, contained
a few more details, but they were terribly
sparse, and I paid them little attention, since the double elimination appeared
to be a clincher.
On Holmes' return, I recounted the story. His brow furrowed and his
expression darkened as I spoke. It is unusual for Holmes to become so
angry, and I shall delay revealing the full ferocity of his attack. I
shall summarise his argument later. Suffice it to say that I had made a
simple oversight which rendered the Double Elimination analysis
irrelevant.
What was Watson's error?
When his fury had passed, Holmes picked up the stowaway's statement:
"We -- the Sultan, myself, and five of the Sultan's lackeys -- played a
standard but unusual game. His lackeys ensured that
they posed no threat to the Sultan, two having no units remaining after
1901, and all five eliminated by 1902. Even I had taken centres from
them all by then. Raising armies wherever we could, the Sultan and I had
the same number of units. Even though I led by one centre, I had most of
my units landlocked. It seemed to be an interesting tactical challenge.
Sadly, the Sultan does not approve of being so challenged; he flew into
a rage. Angrily, he ordered me jailed and
flogged for my impudence.
Remembering a secret passage from the palace courtyard -- where I was
being held by the guards for my flogging -- I wriggled through and ran off. My
ears rang with the sound of gunshots behind me, but I managed to make good on
my escape.
Yesterday I had been a free and privileged man in Suwat; today I was a
wanted criminal!
Bringing with me the papers I had grabbed from the game table as evidence, I fled to
the Port of Suwat. Running into the docks, I looked for a passage to
safety. Escape seemed unlikely unless a boat was leaving soon, for
the Sultan's men would surely find me before long. Searching each dock
for any ship with an imminent departure, I learned that an English cruiser was leaving that
very next morning.
Then, when night fell, I crept into the vessel through an open porthole,
and escaped."
Beside the statement lay a crumpled piece of paper, containing
build orders for
1901. The Sultan was in the habit of having servants move the pieces,
so all powers' builds were summarised upon it. Unfortunately, they
showed a singular lack of detail:
Fall 1901 builds:
| Four armies, three armies,
two builds waived; no orders necessary;
no orders necessary; no orders necessary;
no orders necessary.
|
Holmes sat unmoved for about ten minutes, then said.
"Given the builds, one power left without units at the conclusion of 1901
must be..."
"...and it is obvious which power our stowaway friend was playing..."
"...and so the other power without units for use in 1902 is...."
Can you deduce the powers without units and the identity of the
Sultan and
refugee's powers?
If you're stuck already, Dr. Watson has made
available the solutions and
Holmes' reasoning for each case.
All this time Holmes had been staring intently at the empty board; only now
did he reach into his old cloth bag and set out the pieces. He shuffled
them around, smoke pouring from his pipe, then he grimaced, and
shuffled some more. Finally, he took up his glass and sat back to
admire his handiwork.
As he appeared more relaxed, I spoke once more: "So, Holmes, is it
indeed
possible that two powers can have no units in 1902? Should I retract
my evidence against the man?"
"Indeed you should, Watson. We must dispatch a messenger immediately.
However, although the man's game history rings true, I yet have reason
to suspect that he is not quite what he seems."
To illustrate my error,
Holmes restored the pieces to their original position, and took me through
a year of moves, culminating in the builds of 1901. His game matched
the information on the scrap of paper perfectly, and the available builds
were consistent.
How much of the position at the end of 1901 can you reconstruct?
I was terribly afraid that some ill might befall the refugee because of
my overhasty diagnosis, and I hurried to the immigration office. They
heard my tale with some distress, and I was taken to meet an official
from the Foreign Office, as the matter had by then been referred as
a matter of politics. I was adamant in my intention to convince the
government to allow
Holmes himself to present his own findings before any action was taken
regarding the stowaway.
I reported the mistake I had made in judging the stowaway's tale, but
learned in response that it made no matter. The Foreign Office had
decided the refugee must be returned rather than risk any disruption
of the relationship between the Sultan and the British crown.
"You should understand, Dr. Watson," said the undersecretary who
met with me, "that the lease on the oil facilities at Port Suwat is again coming up for renewal.
The Foreign Office is anxious to avoid any further embarassing incidents.
Our intelligence service has confirmed that the Sultan has been behaving
oddly of late -- the French have recently returned a refugee who had made
claims similar to those made by our friend here. This is clearly a test of
our alliance
with the Sultanate. At this sensitive time, the needs
of the nation must be placed ahead of those of the individual. Whether
or not the man's story is true, we simply must return him to Suwat or risk the
Sultan's displeasure. Thank you for your time and effort, Dr. Watson,
but this matter is clear-cut."
As I took up my hat to leave, I saw the refugee being led to a carriage.
At that moment a cab drew up and Holmes leapt out. Ignoring me and the
constables, he raced over to the carriage yelling, "Wait! Wait!" The carriage
drew to a halt, and Holmes whispered something to the refugee. A smile
spread across his face and he spoke in a quiet voice, "Yes, Mr. Holmes, that is
correct. I shall relay your answer to the Sultan!"
Shortly after this singular incident, it was announced that the lease on
the Suwati oil facilities had been extended yet again, and in a Times photograph of the
signing of the lease extension, I was clearly able to discern the familiar
features of our "refugee"
friend.
I quizzed Holmes about what it was he had said to the man. "A code-word, Watson,"
he replied. "The Sultan was testing us yet again, in his unique way."
Holmes is often more forthcoming about his deductive processes, and I
pressed him further.
"I must admit that the problem almost defeated me, Watson. There was
more to the problem than I first recognised -- the difficulty was not so
much in finding the solution, though that was hard enough, as in
finding the question."
Now that you have read the story, can you deduce what question the Sultan
was asking?
Mail your answers to The Pouch.
(If you need a little help, the good doctor has made
the code-word available.)
-- Dr. John H. Watson
via Graeme Ackland
(gja@ph.ed.ac.uk)
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