Chapter 14

The door opened and Leoh squeezed into the booth.

“You’re all right?”

Hector blinked and refocused his eyes on reality. “Think so--”

“Everything went well? The Watchmen got through to you?”

“Good thing they did. I was nearly killed anyway.”

“But you survived.”

“So far.”

Across the room, Odal stood massaging his forehead while Kor demanded: “How could they possibly have discovered the secret? Where was the leak?”

“That is not important now,” Odal said quietly. “The primary fact is that they have not only discovered our secret, but they have found a way of duplicating it.”

“The sanctimonious hypocrites,” Kor snarled, “accusing us of cheating, and then they do the same thing.”

“Regardless of the moral values of our mutual behavior,” Odal said dryly, “it is evident that there is no longer any use in calling on telepathically-guided assistants, I shall face the Watchman alone during the second half of the duel.”

“Can you trust them to do the same?”

“Yes. They easily defeated my aides a few minutes ago, then stood aside and allowed the two of us to fight by ourselves.”

“And you failed to defeat him?”

Odal frowned, “I was wounded by a fluke. He is a very ... unusual opponent. I cannot decide whether he is actually as clumsy as he appears to be, or whether he is shamming and trying to make me overconfident. Either way, it is impossible to predict his behavior. Perhaps he is also telepathic.”

Kor’s gray eyes became flat and emotionless. “You know, of course, how the Chancellor will react if you fail to kill this Watchman. Not merely defeat him. He must be killed. The aura of invincibility must be maintained.”

“I will do my best,” Odal said.

“He must be killed.”

The chime that marked the end of the rest period sounded. Odal and Hector returned to the their booths. Now it was Hector’s choice of environment and weapons.

Odal found himself enveloped in darkness. Only gradually did his eyes adjust. He saw that he was in a spacesuit. For several minutes he stood motionless, peering into the darkness, every sense alert, every muscle coiled for immediate action.

[Illustration]

Dimly he could see the outlines of jagged rock against a background of innumerable stars. Experimentally, he lifted one foot. It stuck tackily, to the surface. Magnetized boots, Odal thought. This must be a planetoid.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, he saw that he was right. It was a small planetoid, perhaps a mile or so in diameter. Almost zero gravity. Airless.

Odal swiveled his head inside the fishbowl helmet of his spacesuit and saw, over his right shoulder, the figure of Hector--lank and ungainly even with the bulky suit. For a moment, Odal puzzled over the weapon to be used. Then Hector bent down, picked up a loose stone, straightened, and tossed it softly past Odal’s head. The Kerak major watched it sail by and off into the darkness of space, never to return to the tiny planetoid.

A warning shot, Odal thought to himself. He wondered how much damage one could do with a nearly weightless stone, then remembered that inertial mass was unaffected by gravitational fields, or the lack of them. A fifty-pound rock might be easier to lift, but it would be just as hard to throw--and it would do just as much damage when it hit, regardless of its gravitational “weight.”

Odal crouched down and selected a stone the size of his fist. He rose carefully, sighted Hector standing a hundred yards or so away, and threw as hard as he could.

The effort of his throw sent him tumbling off-balance, and the stone was far off-target. He fell to his hands and knees, bounced lightly and skidded to a stop. Immediately he drew his feet up under his body and planted the magnetized soles of his boots firmly on the iron-rich surface.

But before he could stand again, a small stone pinged lightly off his oxygen tank. The Star Watchman had his range already!

Odal scrambled to the nearest upjutting rocks and crouched behind them. Lucky I didn’t rip open the spacesuit, he told himself. Three stones, evidently hurled in salvo, ticked off the top of the top of the rocks he was hunched behind. One of the stones bounced into his fishbowl helmet.

Odal scooped up a handful of pebbles and tossed them in Hector’s general direction. That should make him duck. Perhaps he’ll stumble and crack his helmet open.

Then he grinned to himself. That’s it. Kor wants him dead, and that is the way to do it. Pin him under a big rock, then bury him alive under more rocks. A few at a time, stretched out nicely. While his oxygen supply gives out. That should put enough stress on his nervous system to hospitalize him, at least. Then he can assassinated by more conventional means. Perhaps he will even be as obliging as Massan, and have a fatal stroke.