The Dueling Machine sw-3 Page 17

  “He actually jumped from Kerak to Acquatainia?” Spencer still looked unconvinced.

  “In something less than a second,” Leoh repeated. “Four hundred and fifty light years in less than a second.”

  Spencer’s brow darkened. “Do you realize what you’ve done, Albert? The military potential of this… teleportation. And Kanus must know all about it, too.”

  “Yes. And he’s holding Hector somewhere in Kerak. We’ve got to get him out… if he’s still alive”

  “I know,” Spencer said, absolutely glowering now. “And what about this Kerak assassin? I suppose the Acquatainians have him safely filed away?”

  Nodding again, Leoh answered, “They’re not quite sure what to do with him. Technically, he’s not charged with any crimes. Actually, the last thing in the world anyone wants is to send him back to Kerak.”

  “Why did he leave? Why come back to Acquatainia?”

  “Don’t know. Odal won’t tell us anything, except to claim asylum on Acquatainia. Most people here think it’s another sort of trick.”

  Spencer drummed his fingers on his thigh impatiently. “So Odal is imprisoned in Acquatainia, Hector is presumably jailed in Kerak—or worse. And I have a survey fleet heading for the Acquataine-Kerak frontier on a mission that’s now obviously hopeless. Kanus needn’t fight his way into Acquatainia. He can pop into the midst of the Cluster, wherever there are dueling machines.”

  “We could shut them down, or guard them,” Leoh suggested.

  Frowning again, Spencer pointed out, “There’s nothing to prevent Kanus from building machines inside every Kerak embassy or consulate building in the Cluster… or in the Commonwealth, for that matter. Nothing short of war can stop him from doing that.”

  “And war is exactly what we’re trying to prevent.” “We’ve got to prevent it,” Spencer rumbled, “if we want to keep the Commonwealth intact.”

  Now Leoh was starting to feel as gloomy as Sir Harold.

  “And Hector? What about him? We can’t abandon him… Kanus could kill him.”

  “I know. I’ll call Romis, the Foreign Minister. Of that whole lot around Kanus, he’s the only one who seems capable of telling the truth.”

  “What can you do it they refuse to return Hector?”

  ’They’ll probably offer to trade him for Odal.”

  “But Odal doesn’t want to go,” Leoh said. “And the Acquatainians might not surrender him. If they hold Odal and Kanus keeps Hector, then the Commonwealth will be forced into…”

  “Into threatening Kerak with armed force if they don’t release Hector. Good Lord, this lieutenant could trigger off the war we’re trying to avert!”

  Spencer looked as appalled as Leoh felt.

  6

  Minister Romis left his country villa punctually at dawn for his usual morning ride. He proceeded along the bridle path, however, only until he was out of sight of the villa and any possible spies of Kor’s. Then he turned his mount off the path and into the thick woods. After a hard climb upslope, he came to a little clearing atop a knoll.

  Standing in the clearing was a small shuttle craft, its hatch flanked by a pair of armed guards. Wordlessly, Romis dismounted and went into the craft. A man dressed identically, and about the same height and build as the Foreign Minister, came out and mounted the animal and continued the ride.

  Within moments, the shuttle craft rose on muffled jets and hurtled up and out of Kerak’s atmosphere. Romis entered the control compartment and sat beside the pilot.

  “This is a risky business, sir,” the pilot said. “We could be spotted front the ground.”

  “The nearest tracking station is manned by friends of ours,” Romis said tiredly. “At least, they were friends the last time I talked with them. One must take some risks in an enterprise of this sort, and the chief risk seems to be friends who change sides.”

  The pilot nodded unhappily. Twelve minutes after liftoff, the shuttle craft made rendezvous with an orbiting star ship that bore the insignia of the Kerak space fleet. A craggy-faced captain met Romis at the air lock and guided him down a narrow passageway to a small, guarded compartment. They stepped in. Lying on the bunk built into the compartment’s curving outer bulkhead was the inert form of Star Watch Lieutenant Hector. Nearby sat one of the guards and a meditech who had been at the dueling machine. They rose and stood at attention.

  “None of Kor’s people know about him?” Romis’ voice was quiet, but urgent.

  “No, sir,” said the meditech. “The interrogators were all knocked unconscious by the power surge when Major Odal and the Watchman transferred with each other. We were able to get the Watchman here without being detected.”

  “Hopefully,” Romis added. Then he asked, “How is he?”

  The meditech replied, “Sleeping like a child, sir. We thought it best to keep him drugged.” Romis nodded.

  “At my order,” the captain said, “they’ve given the Watchman several doses of truth drugs. We’ve been questioning him. No sense allowing an opportunity like this to go to waste.”

  “Quite right,” said Romis. “What have you learned?” The captain’s face darkened. “Absolutely nothing. Either he knows nothing… which is hard to believe, or,” he went on, shifting his gaze to the meditech, “he can overcome the effects of the drug.”

  Shrugging, Romis turned back to the meditech. “You are certain that you got away from Kor undetected.”

  “Yes, sir. We went by the usual route, using only those men we know are loyal to our cause.”

  “Good. Now let us pray that none of our loyal friends decide to change loyalties.”

  The captain asked, “How are you going to explain Odal’s disappearance? The Leader will be told about it this morning, won’t he?”

  “That is correct. And I do not intend to say a word. Kor assumes that Odal, and this meditech and guard, all escaped in the dueling machine. Let him continue to assume that; no suspicion will fall on us.”

  The captain murmured approval.

  There was a rap at the door. The captain opened it, and the guard outside handed him a written message. The captain scanned it, then handed it to Romis, saying, “Your tri-di link has been set up.”

  Romis crumpled the message in his hand. “I had better hurry, then, before the beam leaks enough to be traceable. Here,” he handed the rolled-up paper to the meditech, “destroy this. Personally.”

  Romis quickly made his way to another compartment, farther down the passageway that served as a communications center. When he and the captain entered the compartment, the communications tech rose, saluted, and discreetly stepped out into the passageway.

  Romis sat down before the screen and touched a button on the panel at his side. Instantly the screen showed the bulky form of Sir Harold Spencer, sitting at a metal desk, obviously aboard his own star ship.

  Spencer’s face was a thundercloud. “Minister Romis. I was going to call you when your call arrived here.”

  Romis smiled easily and replied, “From the expression on your face, Commander, I believe you already know the reason for my calling.”

  Sir Harold did not return the smile. “You are a well-trained diplomat, sir. I am only a soldier. Let’s come directly to the point.”

  “Of course. A major in the Kerak army has disappeared, and I have reason to believe he is on Acquatainia.”

  Spencer huffed. “And a Star Watch lieutenant has disappeared, and I have reason to believe he is on Kerak.”

  “Your suspicions are not without foundation,” Romis fenced coolly. “And mine?”

  The Star Watch Commander rubbed a hand across his massive jaw before answering. “You have been using the words ‘I’ and ‘mine’ instead of the usual diplomatic plurals. Could it be that you are not speaking on behalf of the Kerak government?”

  Romis glanced up at the captain, standing by the door out of camera range; he gave only a worried frown and a gesture to indicate that time was racing.

  “It happens,” Romis said t
o Sir Harold, “that I am not speaking for the government at this moment. If you have custody of the missing Kerak major, you can probably learn the details of my position from him.”

  “I see,” Spencer said. “And should I assume that you—and not Kanus and his gang of hoodlums—have custody of Lieutenant Hector?”

  Romis nodded.

  “You wish to exchange him for Major Odal?”

  “No, not at all. The Major is… safer… where he is, for the time being. We have no desire for his return to Kerak at the moment. Perhaps later. However, we do want to assure you that no harm will come to Lieutenant Hector—no matter what happens here on Kerak.”

  Spencer sat wordlessly for several seconds. At length he said, “You seem to be saying that there will be an upheaval in Kerak’s government shortly, and you will hold Lieutenant Hector hostage to make certain that the Star Watch does not interfere. Is that correct?”

  “You put it rather bluntly,” Romis said, “but, in essence, you are correct.”

  “Very well,” said Spencer. “Go ahead and have your upheaval. But let me warn you: if, for any reason whatever, harm should befall a Star Watchman, you will have an invasion on your hands as quickly as star ships can reach your worlds. I will not wait for authorization from the Terran Council or any other formalities. I will crush you, one and all. Is that clear?”

  “Quite clear,” Romis replied, his face reddening. “Quite clear.”

  Leoh had to make his way through the length of the Acquatainian Justice Department’s longest hallway, down a lift tube to a sub-sub-basement, past four checkpoints guarded by a dozen armed and uniformed men each, into an anteroom where another pair of guards sat next to a tri-di scanner, and finally—after being stopped, photographed, questioned, and made to show his special identification card and pass each step of the way—entered Odal’s quarters.

  It was a comfortable suite of rooms, deep underground, originally built for the Secretary of Justice as a blast shelter during the previous Acquataine-Kerak war.

  “You’re certainly well guarded,” the old man said to Odal as he entered.

  The Kerak major had been sitting on a plush lounge, listening to a music tape. He flicked the music silent and rose as Leoh walked into the room. The outside door clicked shut behind the scientist.

  “I’m being protected, they tell me,” said Odal, “both from the Acquatainian populace and from the Kerak embassy.”

  “Are they treating you well?” Leoh asked as he sat, uninvited, on an easy chair next to the lounge.

  “Well enough. I have music, tri-di, food and drink.” Odal’s voice had a ring of irony in it. “I’m even allowed to see the sun once a day, when I get my prison-yard exercise.”

  As Odal sat back in the lounge, Leoh looked closely at him. He seemed different. No more icy smile and haughty manner. There were lines in his face that had been put there by pain, but not by pain alone. Disillusionment, perhaps. The world was no longer his personal arena of triumph. Leoh thought, He’s settled down to the same business that haunts us all: survival.

  Aloud, he said, “Sir Harold Spencer has been in touch with your Foreign Minister, Romis.” Odal kept his face blank, noncommittal. “Harold has asked me to speak with you, to find out where you stand in all of this. The situation is quite confused.”

  “It seems simple to me,” Odal said. “You have me. Romis has Hector.”

  “Yes, but where do we go from here? Is Kanus going to attack Acquatainia? Is Romis going to try to overthrow Kanus? Harold has been trying to avert a war, but if anything happens to Hector, he’ll swoop in with every Star Watch ship he can muster. And where do you stand? Which side are you on?”

  Odal almost smiled. “I’ve been asking myself that very question. So far, I haven’t been able to find a clear answer.”

  “It’s important for us to know.”

  “Is it?” Odal asked, leaning forward slightly in the lounge. “Why is that? I’m a prisoner here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You needn’t be a prisoner. I’m sure that Harold and Prime Minister Martine would agree to have you released if you guaranteed to help us.”

  “Help you? How?”

  “For one thing,” Leoh answered, “you could help us to get Hector back to safety.”

  “Return to Kerak?” Odal tensed. “That would be risky.”

  “You’d rather sit safely here, a prisoner?”

  “Why not?”

  Leoh shifted his weight uncomfortably in the chair. “I should think that Romis could use you in his attempt to overthrow Kanus.”

  “Possibly. But not until the moment he’s ready to strike directly at Kanus. Until then, I imagine he’s just as happy to let me remain here. He’ll call me when he wants me. Whether I’ll go or not is another problem.”

  Leoh suddenly found that he had run out of words. It seemed clear that Odal was not going to volunteer to help anyone except himself.

  Rising, he said, “I’d like you to think about these matters. There are many lives at stake, and you could help to save them.”

  “And lose my own,” Odal said as he politely stood up.

  Leoh cocked his head to one side. “Very possibly, I must admit.”

  “You regard Hector’s life more highly than my own. I don’t.”

  “All right then, stalemate. But there are a few billion Kerak and Acquatainian lives at stake, you know.”

  Leoh started for the door. Odal remained standing in front of the lounge. Then he called:

  “Professor. That girl… the one who was so startled when I arrived at your dueling machine. Who is she?”

  Leoh turned. “Geri Dulaq. The late Prime Minister’s daughter.”

  “Oh, I see.” For an instant, Odal’s nearly expressionless face seemed to show something: disappointment, regret?

  “She hates me, doesn’t she?” he asked.

  “To use your own words,” said Leoh, “why not?”

  7

  Hector scratched his head thoughtfully and said, “This sort of, well, puts me in a… um, funny position.”

  The Kerak captain shrugged. “We are all in an extremely delicate position.”

  “Well, I suppose so, if… that is, I mean… how do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  The captain’s blunt, seamed face hardened angrily for a moment. They were sitting on the bridge of the orbiting star ship to which Hector had been brought. Beyond the protective rail, on the level below, was the control center of the mammoth vessel. The captain controlled his rage and replied evenly:

  “A Kerak officer does not tell lies. Under any circumstances. My—superior, let us say—has spoken to the Star Watch Commander, as I explained to you. They reached an agreement whereby you are to remain on this ship until further notice. I am willing to allow you free rein of the ship, exclusive of the control center itself, the power plant, and the air locks. I believe that this is more than fair.”

  Hector drummed his fingers on the chart table next to him. “Guess I’ve got no choice, really. I’m sort of, well, halfway between a prisoner and, um, a cultural exchange tourist.”

  The captain smiled mechanically, trying to ignore the maddening finger-drumming.

  “And I’ll be staying with you,” Hector went on, “until you assassinate Kanus.”

  “DON’T SAY THAT!” The Captain almost leaped into Hector’s lap and clapped a hand over the Watchman’s mouth.

  “Oh. Doesn’t the crew know about it?”

  The captain rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. “How… who… whatever gave you the idea that we would… contemplate such a thing?”

  Hector frowned in puzzlement. “I don’t really know. Just odds and ends. You know. A few things my guards have said. And I figure that Kanus would have pickled my brain by now. You haven’t. I’m being treated almost like a guest. So you’re not working for Kanus. Yet you’re wearing Kerak insignia. Therefore you must be…”

  “Enough! Please, it is not necessary to go into any
more detail.”

  “Okay.” Hector got to his feet “It’s all right for me to walk through the ship?”

  “Yes; with the exceptions I mentioned.” The captain rose also. “Oh, yes, there is one other forbidden area: the computers. I understand you were in there this morning.”

  Hector nodded. “The guards let me go in. I was taking my after-breakfast exercise. The guards insisted on it. The exercise, that is.”

  “That is irrelevant! You discussed computation methods with one of our junior programmers…”

  “Yes. I’m pretty good at math, you see and…”

  “Please! I don’t know what you told him, but in attempting to put your so-called ‘improvements’ into the computer program, he blew out three banks of logic circuits and caused a shutdown of the computer for several hours.”

  “Oh? That’s funny.”

  “Funny?” the captain snapped.

  “I mean odd.”

  “I quite agree. Do not enter the computer area again.”

  Hector shrugged. “Okay. You’re the captain.”

  The young Star Watchman turned and walked away, leaving the captain seething with frustration. He had not saluted; he had not waited until dismissed by the superior officer; he just slouched off like… like a civilian! And now he was whistling! Aboard ship! The captain sank back into his chair. That computer programmer was only the first casualty, he suddenly realized. Romis had better act quickly. It is only a matter of time before this Watchman drives us all insane.

  The bridge, Hector found, connected to a series of technical stations, such as the navigation section (idle now that the ship was parked in orbit), the communications center (well guarded) and—most interesting of all—the observation center.

  Here Hector found a fair-sized compartment crammed with view screens showing almost every section of the ship’s interior, and also looking outside in various directions around the ship. Since they were orbiting Kerak’s capital planet, most of the exterior views were turned on the ground below.