Chapter 29: Generalist and Specialist
“Everything is for something. That’s why.”
“That’s no answer.” Tulland moved one of his tutor’s stones out of formation. His tutor hardly ever played disrupting moves in that way, favoring simply setting up his own stones in sound, self-sustaining formations that damaged Tulland’s plans simply by exerting their tactical influence on the rest of the board. Safe from disturbing the other stones, Tulland pulled the stone off the board entirely, tossing it in his bowl of prisoners. “I’m for something. But I can’t jump ten times my own height.”
“But the field jumpers can, yes. That’s what I’m saying, boy.” The old man ignored the gap in his own defensive wall that Tulland’s theft of a piece had left, placing a stone in a completely unrelated part of the board in such a way as to completely frustrate two future attacks Tulland had been looking forward to. “They are for jumping. It’s the way they negotiate with the realities of this world. They are shaped and designed specifically for that task, and precious few others. Would you say you are for jumping?”
Tulland glared at the board, then played an ally stone near his tutor’s last placed piece in an attempt to salvage at least one of his offensives.
“No. But I have legs. I have muscle and bone. I have all the same pieces.”
“And yet, you can do so much more with them. With the same leg, you can kick. Or dance. Or run. Or walk, for that matter. You can draw lines and figures in the dirt, or tap in frustration after I do this.” The tutor half-smiled and played a piece that not only put a knife into any future plans of attack Tulland might have had with his semi-recovering offensive, but also gave the tutor an almost perfect attack angle on Tulland’s territory. “You have versatility. But that field jumper you were contemplating? It has none of those options. It can simply jump. Every hook in its shell to which a muscle is attached, every bit of weight in its body, and all of its attention are focused on just that one task. It’s very, very good at it.”
“Then why don’t they dominate? Not the field jumpers, but something like them. A cat that is good at pouncing, or a viper that’s good at striking. If they are better at it than we’ll ever be.” Tulland placed a stone in what he now suspected was an absolutely useless attempt to make his tutor sweat a bit. “Why is the world ruled by the one species of generalists, rather than some or all of the specialists?”
“Ah. The big question you’ve been working up to, I see.”
The tutor ignored Tulland’s feint, just as Tulland had expected him to. He put another attacking stone down firmly in the center of Tulland’s last remaining territory. Tulland would be able to kill the attack, he knew, but not before his tutor had profited so much from the attempt that any idea of winning was now a pipe dream. He would have forfeited, if it was polite to do so and he had any hope at all of winning the next game, or the one after that.