International Arbiter Carol Jarecki says officiating at a chess match is a little like piloting her Cessna 210 across the country in unpredictable weather.

"It's hours of boredom punctuated by moments of pure terror," says Jarecki, a former anesthesiologist and avid pilot who got involved in chess after her son, John, started playing at age 6 and reached Master status at the tender age of 12. Since the Garry Kasparov-Deep Blue rematch began this week, Jarecki has been the third person sitting in the room with Kasparov and the IBM team member serving as stand-in for Deep Blue. She sits just out of camera range, facing Kasparov and watching the game from beginning to end on a monitor.

Jarecki, a New Yorker who grew up in Asbury Park, N.J., has been the arbiter of several high-profile chess events, including the 1990 World Championship match between Garry Kasparov and former world champ Anatoly Karpov, the 1995 World Championship match between Kasparov and Vishy Anand at the World Trade Center, and the 1989 match between Kasparov and Deep Thought, an earlier version of Kasparov's current nemesis, Deep Blue.

Her job is to settle disputes that arise during matches, and to make sure that all equipment and facilities meet United States Chess Federation standards. Anything from a room that's too drafty to a chess piece that's too flimsy could cause a player to be distracted, says Jarecki, so she takes their sometimes quirky requests seriously. Game rooms must be absolutely sound-proof and climate-controlled, chess boards and sets have to be approved by both players, chairs and tables must be acceptable to both sides and even a shadow on the chess board can become a major point of contention.

Before the current match, Jarecki checked the lighting in the 35th-floor game room in the Equitable Center and found that shadows were being cast by the pawns. She predicted Kasparov would object. Thankfully, Deep Blue was silent on this issue and just about all others. "The computer doesn't care," she says. "It could play blindfolded." Sure enough, 15 minutes later Kasparov spied the shadows and demanded the lighting be fixed. Jarecki also took several chess boards to Kasparov's hotel room before the match. He picked one with black pieces made of rosewood (ebony is too hard on the eyes) and simply constructed pieces. "He doesn't like fancy bishops with spears and knights on horses," she says.

Jarecki also went out and found Kasparov a suitable chair when two that were provided by IBM were deemed unacceptable. The champion doesn't like swivel chairs, chairs with wheels or chairs that tilt back. He must also have a well-cushioned seat, since he perches on the edge of his seat for much of the game.

Once in the game room, Jarecki starts and stops the clock. Players are not permitted to talk to each other. If one has a complaint, it must be communicated first to Jarecki. When Kasparov, who is not allowed to speak to anyone on his team during the game, decides he needs his mother to fill up his thermos of tea, he must tell Jarecki. "For Garry, I'm an essential part of the game," she says.

Jarecki must keep a close watch on the action, because if a mistake is made she is required to make a lightning-quick decision. Players, for instance, cannot touch a piece, then change their minds and move another. The only exception is when a human is playing a computer and the stand-in makes an error in carrying out the computer's move. This happened in an earlier match between Kasparov and Deep Blue, says Jarecki. She allowed Deep Blue to correct the move, then gave Kasparov extra time to make up for the distraction the mistake caused him. If a player objects to a decision made by an arbiter, an appeals board is the next step in the process.

Jarecki, unlike the players, is not permitted to get up and stretch, pace the room or go for a drink during a game. "I do not leave, even for a second," she says. But she's never been tempted to nod off, either.

"This job can be quite stressful. I have to be on my toes all the time," she says. "I have waited for players for 45 minutes to make one move. On the other hand, you never know when something might go wrong."

-- Julia Lawlor