Check for lasers

Author

Martin Boehme
May 31, 2026

"Sorry—your knight can't move there, either. You'll have to try again. Twenty seconds."

The crowd in the coliseum goes silent as a large timer on a screen ticks downward.

You mutter to yourself as your eyes dart to various places around the board, bright green lines intersecting between the squares just below the surface. "Knights are the horses, Lane loved horses, L for Lane. L, L, L."

You set the piece down on an empty square, the lights surrounding it go blue, and the timer resets.

One of the announcers calls out across the audience. "A close one, folks: fifteen rounds in and still learning, but he's still in it!"

Your opponent looks just as stumped as you are, but they move more quickly. They lift a bishop, a sturdy ceramic piece, stoneware with ash swirled beautifully into the glaze, and tap it to the top of one of your own.

The light around it goes red, and the square lowers, pulling your bishop beneath the board and resurfacing it to the side of the table.

The announcer rubs it in. "A solid gain for white!"

The crowd cheers, and sweat drips down from your right temple. You glance upward, but you can't see anything through the coliseum lights.

Lane, Lane, Lane. You ignore the bishop and lift your knight again, following that L up toward their solid brass king. That's probably good, right?

In this round, the king is the only piece left made from metal. Yours is silver.

"Folks, we've got our first check, and judging by at least one of the faces at this table, they've realized what many of you will have already noticed. It's at this time we'd like to take a moment to turn the lights out and take in what we're all here for. Time out, lights out!"

The stars come into view. The sky is bright tonight.

"It's round sixteen for seat three-hundred thirty-six out of the five hundred of us who will be leaving this place for good. You all voted for this fine group of people to battle in the great Earth game of chess, and we're nearing the end. Contestants, you'll also be leaving with your own, full chess set to commemorate your hard-won victory. But please remember, everyone, that both of these people here are already winners, no matter what happens here tonight: one will leave behind an ailing planet, and the other will be crowned king. Please, give them both a round of applause before we head into the last of the last!"

The crowd erupts. You notice your opponent is trembling. You find yourself drenched, throat desperately parched.

"Alright, alright, that's enough for now, folks. Lights on! We'll take thirty seconds to get our eyes working again, and then it's white's turn to move."

The light overpowers you for a moment, nothing visible but the green lines to the sides of your opponent's chair and the coliseum lights themselves.

But then, you see it. Your next L could land on the king, which was clear enough, but it could also take their queen.

They have no choice but to move their king to the back row. You lift your knight another time, think of Lane, and tap it to the top of their queen.

"He's found it, folks, and white's queen has found herself at the pointy end of a royal fork."

Your opponent assesses that your knight is a problem, taking it with their other bishop.

Lane, Lane, Lane. You slow down now, savoring every minute you can of the five you've been given per turn. Castles go straight like walls. You see an attack, at least. Defense is still beyond you at this point.

"Thirty seconds left once again for black."

You can't think to do much more than this, so you move your castle to the back row. Rook, maybe. You're still not sure.

"White in check."

The crowd was loud the first time, but it's practically frozen now.

They take your castle with the last of their own. But you still have a queen on the other side. You study the dark swirls in the pattern as you lift it. Queens are easy to remember.

Your opponent inhales sharply. You can't bring yourself to look yet.

Queen takes castle. The light around their king burns red, the same color now to the sides of your opponent. You look up to meet your new king's eyes, your own sharing none of the excitement that now fills the hungry stands. The lights to their sides emit a high-pitched whine.

Space is calling.

And now it's time once again to vote for the next Bloomside story.

Votes will be counted until the 11th, and if you voted last time, you'll get a reminder on the 10th if you haven't done so for this one. If you subscribe between now and then, you'll find the poll in your welcome email.

From a potential story called Pinball wizard:

"Creature from the Black Lagoon. Classic. This the one?"

Or, from another called Green day:

She set the match down in a tray and was struck with a craving for Granny Smiths, arugula, and a book set in a forest as the flame burst into verdant life atop the candle on her dresser.

And now you'll have to wait for the winner, whichever it happens to be. Or, you could read one of the previous stories, which I'll have linked at the bottom.

I've also been rereading The Series of Unfortunate Events, which is still as charming as I remember, so you could always read that. I never finished it as a kid, so I'm excited to suddenly find myself in one that I don't remember at some point.

Regardless, thanks for reading.

I've been in a newspaper precisely once that I'm aware of: there was an event at my elementary school that had something to do with reading, and someone came over to take a photo of my grandmother and a very small me reading together. It's one of my favorite photos.

When I think of books, I think of her. Also when I play piano, since she helped make sure I had lessons. I still have the metronome somewhere in a box in the closet.

I was going to title this month's Bloomside The safety in lilacs, because I used to hide out in a particularly large lilac bush on my grandparents' farm, and the lilacs were blooming this month, and she didn't get to see them. But I honor her instead by shifting this newsletter to fiction-first, because I hope that somewhere out there, she'll see every one of these little stories of mine.

The next time you read a book, think about whoever helped you learn to love them, if you have someone.

My love of books, pianos, flowers, dinner rolls, and Christmas cookies?

Keep blooming,

Martin

Previous stories from Bloomside:

Forgot how to focus? Remember how to read slowly by pasting any of these or anything else you're reading into Press to Continue.