Chapter 11

Their groundcar glided from the parking building to the restaurant’s entrance ramp, at the radio call of the doorman. Within minutes, Hector and Leoh were cruising through the city, in the deepening shadows of night.

“There’s only one man,” Leoh said, “who has faced Odal and lived through it.”

“Dulaq,” Hector agreed. “But ... for all the information the medical people have been able to get from him, he might as well be, uh, dead.”

“He’s still completely withdrawn?”

Hector nodded. “The medicos think that ... well, maybe in a few months, with drugs and psychotherapy and all that ... they might be able to bring him back.”

“It won’t be soon enough. We’ve only got four days.”

“I know.”

Leoh was silent for several minutes. Then: “Who is Dulaq’s closest living relative? Does he have a wife?”

“I think his wife is, uh, dead. Has a daughter though. Pretty girl. Bumped into her in the hospital once or twice--”

Leoh smiled in the darkness. Hector’s term, “bumped into” was probably completely literal.

“Why are you asking about Dulaq’s next-of-kin?”

“Because,” Leoh replied, “I think there might be a way to make Dulaq tell us what happened during his duel. But it is a very dangerous way. Perhaps a fatal way.”

“Oh.”

They lapsed into silence again. Finally he blurted, “Come on, my boy, let’s find the daughter and talk to her.”

“Tonight?”

“Now.”

She certainly is a pretty girl, Leoh thought as he explained very carefully to Geri Dulaq what he proposed to do. She sat quietly and politely in the spacious living room of the Dulaq residence. The glittering chandelier cast touches of fire on her chestnut hair. Her slim body was slightly rigid with tension, her hands were clasped in her lap. Her face--which looked as though it could be very expressive--was completely serious now.

“And that is the sum of it,” Leoh concluded. “I believe that it will be possible to use the dueling machine itself to examine your father’s thoughts and determine exactly what took place during his duel against Major Odal!”

She asked softly, “But you are afraid that the shock might be repeated, and this could be fatal to my father?”

Leoh nodded wordlessly.

“Then I am very sorry, sir, but I must say no.” Firmly.

“I understand your feelings,” Leoh replied, “but I hope you realize that unless we can stop Odal and Kanus immediately, we may very well be faced with war.”

She nodded. “I know. But you must remember that we are speaking of my father, of his very life. Kanus will have his war in any event, no matter what I do.”

“Perhaps,” Leoh admitted. “Perhaps.”

Hector and Leoh drove back to the University campus and their quarters in the dueling machine chamber. Neither of them slept well that night.

The next morning, after an unenthusiastic breakfast, they found themselves standing in the antiseptic-white chamber, before the looming, impersonal intricacy of the machine.

“Would you like to practice with it?” Leoh asked.

Hector shook his head. “Maybe later.”

The phone chimed in Leoh’s office. They both went in. Geri Dulaq’s face showed on the tri-di screen.

“I have just heard the news. I did not know that Lieutenant Hector has challenged Odal.” Her face was a mixture of concern and reluctance.