Was the sysadmin the God of this place? Nope. God was someone else. A young cybernetic performance master, Tim Yamin. Small obsidian eyes, beige jacket, long boots. He sat at a desk against the irregularly shaped wall of painted bricks. Above his head, a screen gleamed white. Before him, a computer. A brother to the Creator. Same dynamic, solid, functional vibe. The Creator dialed in to the main event of the evening – Garry Kasparov.

Rumor had it, Kasparov was prepping to connect from something called “other Russia”. Wherever this other Russia was - Israel, Thailand, or Ukraine, - it was treated like a done deal. A given.

Meanwhile, the sysadmin dragged in a ladder. He stepped into the forbidden square, the one outlined in tape. The square, divided into equal cells. Eight by eight.

The sysadmin set the ladder right in the middle and climbed up to the ceiling to adjust the equipment. And there was a lot of equipment! Scary amount. A massive console, covered in cameras, sensors, receivers, transmitters. The sysadmin disappeared into the gear, leaving just his legs dangling out of the electron cloud, brushing against the improbably sturdy ladder.

After several failed connection attempts, a long beep filled the room, and a cheerful voice greeted us. It was amplified by the sound engineer’s generous touch and passed through a devious synthesizer, all prepped for the performance rehearsal. The result? A Soviet-era voice splintered into a thousand different tones. They scattered across the carpet like birds, landing on the notes with equipment settings – like on election ballots. 

Kasparov didn’t say “shalom,” “sawad-dee,” or “vitannya” – no.

“Good afternoon, friends! How’s the weather in Austin?”

“Same as usual, Garry: thunder, lightning, and fiery hail,” replied maestro Yamin, flat as a weather report.

“I see, it’s all under control then,” Kasparov replied, no doubt in his voice.

“The main thing is to make it before Dark,” Yamin said, conspiratorially, pausing just before the capital D. Then he addressed the crowd: “Folks, I suggest we raid the buffet now because there won’t be another chance anytime soon. Meanwhile, Garry and I will discuss the event plan.”