The Dueling Machine sw-3 Page 8

  Odal said nothing, but strained every cell in his pain-racked body to get the boulder off him. Hector reached over his shoulder and began fumbling with the valves that were pressed against the rocks.

  “Sorry to do this… but I’m not killing you… just defeating you. Let’s see, one of these is the oxygen valve, and the other, I think, is the emergency rocket pack. Now, which is which?”

  Hector’s hand tightened on a valve and turned it sharply. A rocket roared to life and Odal was hurtled free of the boulder, shot completely off the planetoid. Hector was bowled over by the blast and rolled halfway around the tiny chunk of rock and metal.

  Odal tried to reach the rocket throttle, but the pain was too great. He was slipping into unconsciousness. He fought against it. He knew he must return to the planetoid and somehow kill his opponent. But gradually the pain overpowered him. His eyes were closing, closing…

  And quite abruptly he found himself sitting in the booth of the dueling machine. It took a moment for him to realize that he was back in the real world. Then his thoughts cleared. He had failed to kill Hector. He hadn’t even defeated him.

  And at the door of the booth stood Kor, his face a grim mask of anger.

  16

  For the moment, Leoh’s office behind the dueling machine looked like a great double room. One wall had been replaced by a full-sized view screen, which now seemed to be dissolved, so that he was looking directly into the austere metallic utility of a star-ship compartment.

  Spencer was saying, “So this hired assassin, after killing four men and nearly wrecking a government, has returned to his native worlds.”

  Leoh nodded. “He returned under guard. I suppose he’s in disgrace, or perhaps even under arrest.”

  “Servants of a dictator never know when they’ll be the ones who are served—on a platter.” Spencer chuckled. “And the Watchman who assisted you, this Junior Lieutenant Hector, where is he?”

  “The Dulaq girl has him in tow, somewhere. Evidently it’s the first time he’s been a hero.”

  Spencer shifted his weight in his chair. “I’ve long prided myself on the conviction that any Star Watch officer can handle almost any kind of emergency. From your description of the past few weeks’ happenings, I was beginning to have my doubts. However, Junior Lieutenant Hector seems to have scraped through.”

  “He turned out to be an extremely valuable man,” Leoh said, smiling. “I think he’ll make a fine officer.”

  Spencer grunted an affirmative.

  “Well,” Leoh said, “that’s the story, to date. I believe that Odal is finished. But the Kerak Worlds have annexed the Szarno Confederacy and are rearming in earnest now. And the Acquatainian government is still very wobbly. There will be elections for a new Prime Minister in a few days, with half a dozen men running and no one in a clear majority. We haven’t heard the last of Kanus, either, not by a long shot.”

  Spencer lifted a shaggy eyebrow. “Neither,” he rumbled, “has he heard the last from us.”

  PART II

  The Force of Pride

  1

  Odal sat alone in the waiting room. It was a bare cubicle, with rough stone walls and a single slit window set high above the floor, close to the ceiling. For furniture, there was only one wooden bench and a view screen set into the wall opposite it. The room was quiet as death.

  The Kerak major sat stiff-backed and unmoving. But his mind was racing:

  Kor uses this type of room to awe visitors. He knows how much like an ancient dungeon this room looks. He likes to terrify people.

  Odal also knew that the interrogation rooms, deep in the sub-basements, were also built like this. Except that they had no windows, and the walls were often blood-spattered.

  “The Minister will see you now,” said a feminine voice from the view screen. But the screen remained blank. Odal realized that he had probably been under observation every minute since he had entered Kor’s headquarters.

  He stood up as the room’s only door opened automatically. With a measured military briskness, Odal strode down the hallway toward the other door at its end, his boots clicking on the stone flooring. He knocked once at the heavy wooden door. No answer. He knocked again, and the door opened by itself.

  Kor was sitting at the far end of the office, behind a mammoth desk. The room was dimly lit, except for a single lamp over the desk that made the Intelligence Minister’s bald head glisten. Odal carefully shut the door, took a few steps into the carpeted room, and waited for Kor to look up. The Intelligence chief was busily signing papers, ignoring his visitor.

  Finally Kor glanced up. “Sit,” he commanded.

  Odal walked to the desk and sat at the single straightbacked chair before it. Kor signed a few more documents, then pushed the stack of papers off to the side of his desk.

  “I spent the morning with the Leader,” he said in his irritatingly shrill voice. “Needless to say, he was unhappy about your duel with the Watchman.”

  Odal could picture Kanus’ angry tirade. “My only desire is to meet the Watchman again and rectify that error.”

  Kor’s emotionless eyes fixed on Odal’s. “Personal motives are of no interest. The Watchman is only a bumbling fool, but he has succeeded in destroying our primary plan for the defeat of Acquatainia. He succeeded because of this meddler, Leoh. He is our target. He is the one who must be put out of the way.”

  “I see…”

  “No, you do not see,” Kor snapped. “You have no concept of the plan I have in mind, because I have told it to no one except the Leader himself. And I will tell it to no one, until it is necessary.”

  Odal didn’t move a muscle. He refused to show any emotion, any fear, any weakness to his superior.

  “For the time being you are assigned to my personal staff. You will remain at this headquarters building at all times. Your duties will be given to you daily by my assistants.”

  “Very well.”

  “And consider this,” Kor said, hunching forward in his chair. “Your failure with the Watchman made the Leader accuse me of failure. He will not tolerate excuses. If you fail the next time I call on you, it will be necessary to destroy you.”

  “I understand perfectly.”

  “Good. Return to your quarters until summoned. And remember, either we destroy Leoh, or he destroys us.”

  Odal nodded, rose from his chair, and walked out of the office. Us, he thought. Kor is beginning to feel the terror he uses on others. If he could have been sure that he wasn’t being watched by hidden cameras, Odal would have smiled.

  2

  Professor Leoh eased his bulky body into the softness of an air couch. It looked as though he was sitting on nothingness, with the glistening metal curve of the couch several centimeters from his body.

  “This is what I’ve needed for a long time,” he said to Hector. “A real vacation, with all the luxuries. It makes an old man happy.”

  The Star Watchman was standing by the window wall across the room from Leoh, anxiously peering down at the bustling city far below. “It’s a nice apartment they’ve given you, all right.”

  The room was long and spacious, with one whole side devoted to the window wall. The decorations were color—and scent—coded to change slowly through the day. At the moment the walls were in shades of brown and gold, and the air hinted faintly of spices.

  “The best part of it,” Leoh said, stretching slowly on the couch, “is that the dueling machine is fixed so that a telepath can’t bring in outside helpers without setting off a warning alarm, and I’ve got nothing to do until the new school year begins at Cannae. I might not even go back then; as long as the Acquatainians want to treat me so royally, why shouldn’t I spend a year or so here? There’s plenty of research I can do… perhaps even lecture occasionally at the university here…”

  Hector tried to smile at the old man’s musings, but looked worried instead. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay in Acquatainia too long. I mean, well… the Kerak people might still be after yo
u. Odal was going to challenge you before I… that is.…”

  “Before you saved me.”

  The Watchman’s face colored. “Well, I didn’t really mean… that is, it wasn’t…”

  Leoh chuckled. “Don’t be so flustered, my boy. You’re a hero. Surely Geri regards you as such.”

  “Urn, yes, I guess so.”

  Changing the subject, Leoh asked, “And how are your quarters? Comfortable, I hope.”

  “Sure.” Hector nodded. “The Terran embassy’s almost as plush as this apartment.”

  “Not bad for a junior lieutenant.”

  Hector fidgeted from the window waif to the couch, then sat on the edge of a web chair.

  “Are you nervous about Sir Harold’s visit?” Leoh asked.

  “N… nervous? No, sir. Terrified!”

  Laughing, Leoh said, “Don’t worry. Harold’s a pleasant enough old grouse… although he tries his best to hide it.”

  Nodding without looking convinced, Hector got to his feet again and went back to the window wall. Then he gasped, “He… he’s here!”

  Leoh heaved himself up from the couch and hurried to see. A sleek ground car with Star Watch markings was pulled up at the building’s entrance. Official Acquatainian escort cars flanked it.

  “He must be on his way up,” Leoh said. “Now try to relax and act…”

  The simple-minded door computer announced in a tinny monotone, “Your expected guests are here.”

  “Then open up,” Leoh commanded.

  The door slid open to reveal a pair of sturdy, steel-eyed Watchmen, a half-dozen Acquatainian honor guards, and—in their midst—the paunchy, jowly figure of Sir Harold Spencer, dressed in a shapeless gray jumpsuit.

  The Star Watch Commander in Chief broke into one of his rare smiles. “Albert, you old scoundrel, how are you?”

  Leoh rushed to the doorway and grasped Spencer’s outstretched hand. “Harold… I thought we’d never see each other again, in the flesh.”

  “Considering the amount of flesh between the two of us, perhaps we’re violating some basic law of the universe by being in the same room together.”

  They laughed and walked into the room. The door slid shut, leaving the guards outside. Hector stood transfixed beside the window wall.

  “Harold, you look wonderful.…”

  “Nonsense. I’m a walking geriatrics experiment. But you, you ancient schemer, you must have transferred to another body since I saw you last.”

  “No, merely careful living.…”

  “Ahah. My downfall. Too many worries and too much wine. It must be pleasant to live the university life, free of care…”

  “Of course. Of course. Oh… Harold, I’d like to introduce Junior Lieutenant Hector.”

  Hector snapped to attention and saluted.

  “Stand easy, Lieutenant. No need for formality. So, you’re the man who beat Kerak’s assassin, are you?”

  “No, sir. I mean yessir… I mean, Professor Leoh is the one…”

  “Nonsense. Albert told me all about it. You’re the one who faced the danger.”

  Hector’s mouth twitched once or twice, as though he was trying to say something, but no sounds came out.

  Spencer stuck a massive hand into his pocket and pulled out a small ebony box. “This is for you, Lieutenant.” He handed the box to Hector.

  The Watchman opened it and saw inside, against a jet-black setting, two small silver pins in the shape of comets. The insignia of a full lieutenant. His jaw dropped open.

  “The official notification is grinding through Star Watch processing, Lieutenant,” Spencer said. “I thought there was no sense letting you wait until the computers straightened out all the records. Congratulations on a well-earned promotion.”

  Hector managed a half-strangled, “Thank you, sir.”

  Turning to Leoh, Spencer said, “Now then, Albert, let us recount old times. I assume you have some refreshments on the premises?”

  Several hours later the two old men were sitting on the air couch, while Hector listened from the web chair. The room’s color had shifted to reds and yellows now, and the scent was of desert flowers.

  “And what do you intend to do now?” Sir Harold was asking the Professor. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe that you’re going to luxuriate here and then return to Carinae, in the midst of the deepest political crisis of the century.”

  Leoh shrugged and hiked his eyebrows, an expression that sent a network of creases across his fleshy face. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’d still like to take a good look at some ideas for better interstellar transportation. And I’d want to be on hand here if those savages from Kerak try to use the dueling machine for their own purposes again.”

  Nodding, Spencer rumbled, “I knew it. You’re getting yourself involved in politics. Sooner or later you’ll be after my job.”

  Even Hector laughed at that.

  More seriously, Spencer went on, “You know, of course, that I’m here officially to attend the inauguration of General Martine as the new Prime Minister.”

  “Yes,” said Leoh. “And your real reason for coming?”

  Lowering his voice slightly, Spencer answered, “I hope to persuade Martine to join the Commonwealth. Or at least to sign a treaty of alliance with us. It’s the only way that Acquatainia can avoid a war with Kerak. All of Acquatainia’s former allies have been taken over by Kerak or frightened off. Alone, the Acquatainians are in grave danger. As a Commonwealth member, or an ally, I doubt that even Kanus would be foolish enough to attack them right now.”

  “But Acquatainia has always refused Commonwealth membership… or even an alliance.”

  “Yes, but General Martine might see things differently now that Kanus is obviously preparing for war,” Spencer said.

  “But the General…” Hector began, then stopped.

  “Go on, my boy. What were you going to say?”

  “Well, it might not be anything important… just something that Geri told me about the General… er, the Prime Minister. She, eh, well, she said he’s a stubborn, shortsighted, proud old clod. Those were her words, sir.”

  Spencer huffed. “The Terran embassy here used slightly different terms, but they painted the same picture of him.”

  “And, uh, she said he’s also very brave and patriotic .… but short-tempered.”

  Leoh turned a worried expression toward Spencer. “It doesn’t sound as though he’d be willing to admit that he needs Commonwealth protection, does it?”

  Shrugging, Sir Harold replied, “The plain fact is that an alliance with the Commonwealth is the only way to avert a war. I’ve had our computer simulators study the situation. Now that Kerak has absorbed Szarno and has neutralized Acquatainia’s other former allies, the computer predicts that Kerak will defeat Acquatainia in a war. Ninety-three percent probability.”

  Leoh’s look of gloom sank deeper.

  “And once Kanus has Acquatainia under his grasp, he’ll attack the Commonwealth.”

  “What? But that’s suicide! Why should he do that?”

  “I’d say it’s because he’s a lunatic,” Spencer answered, with real anger edging his voice. “The sociodynamicists tell me that Kanus’ sort of dictatorship must continually seek to expand, or it will fall apart from internal dissensions and pressures.”

  “But he can’t beat the Commonwealth,” Hector said.

  “Correct,” Spencer agreed. “Every computer simulation we’ve run shows that the Commonwealth would crush Kerak, even if Kanus has Acquatainia’s resources in his hands.”

  The Star Watch Commander paused a moment, then added, “But the computers also predict that the war will cost millions of lives on both sides. And it will trigger off other wars, elsewhere, that could eventually destroy the Commonwealth entirely.”

  Leoh leaned back with the shock. “Then—Martine simply must accept Commonwealth alliance.”

  Spencer nodded. But his face showed that he didn’t expect it.

 
3

  Leoh and Hector watched General Martine’s inauguration on tri-di, in the professor’s apartment. That evening, they joined the throngs of politicians, businessmen, military leaders, ambassadors, artists, visitors, and other VIP’s who were congregating at the city’s main spaceport for the new Prime Minister’s inaugural ball. The party was to be held aboard a satellite orbiting the planet.

  “Do you think Geri will be there?” Hector asked Leoh as they pushed along with the crowd into a jammed shuttle craft.

  The Watchman was wearing his dress black-and-silver uniform, with the comet insignias on his collar. Leoh wore a simple cover-all, as advised in the invitation to the party. It was a splendid crimson with gold trim.

  “You said she’s been invited,” Leoh answered over the hubbub of the hundreds of other conversations.

  They found a pair of seats together and strapped themselves in.

  “But she wasn’t certain that she ought to go… what with her father’s death only a few weeks ago.”

  Leaning back in the padded chair, Leoh said, “Well, if she’s, not there, you can spend hours telling her all about the party.”

  The Watchman’s lean face broke into a toothy grin. “I hadn’t thought of that…”

  The shuttle filled quickly with noisy party goers and then took off. It flew like a normal rocket plane to the top of the atmosphere, then boosted swiftly to the satellite. The party was well under way when Hector and Leoh stepped from the shuttle’s air lock into the satellite.

  It was a huge globular satellite, with all the interior decks and bulkheads removed so that it was as hollow as an enormous soap bubble. The shell of the “bubble” was transparent, except for small disks around the various air locks.

  There must have been more than a thousand people present already, Leoh guessed as he took a first look at the milling throng floating weightlessly through the vast globe. They seemed to be suspended over his head, many of them upside down, others hanging sideways or calmly drifting along and gesturing, deep in conversation. Most of them held drinks in sealed plastic squeeze containers with straws poking out from their tops. The crowd formed a dizzying kaleidoscope overhead: brilliant costumes, flashing jewelry, buzzing voices, crackling laughter, all mixing and gliding effortlessly in mid-air.