Only the three most trusted members of the hospital staff were taken into Leoh’s confidence, and they were hardly enthusiastic about the plan.
“It is a waste of time,” said the chief psychotechnician, shaking his white-maned head vigorously. “You cannot expect a patient who has shown no positive response to drugs and therapy to respond to your machine.”
Leoh argued, and Geri Dulaq firmly insisted that they go through with it. Finally the doctors agreed. With only two days remaining before Hector’s duel with Odal, they began to probe Dulaq’s mind. Geri remained by her father’s bedside while the three doctors fitted the cumbersome transceiver to his head and attached the electrodes for the hospital equipment that monitored his physical condition. Hector and Leoh remained at the dueling machine, communicating with the hospital by phone.
Leoh made a final check of the controls and circuitry, then put in the last call to the tense little group in Dulaq’s room. All was ready.
He walked out to the machine with Hector beside him. Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the sepulchral chamber. Leoh stopped at the nearer booth.
“Now remember,” he said carefully, “I’ll be holding the emergency control unit in my hand. It will stop the duel the instant I set it off. However, if something goes wrong, you must be prepared to act quickly. Keep a close watch on my physical condition: I’ve shown you which instruments to check on the control board.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leoh nodded and took a deep breath. “Very well, then.”
He stepped into the booth and sat down. Hector helped to attach the neurocontacts, and then left him alone. Leoh leaned back and waited for the semihypnotic effect to take hold. Dulaq’s choice of the city and the stat-wand were known. But beyond that, everything was sealed in his uncommunicating mind. Could the machine reach past that seal?
Slowly, lullingly, the dueling machine’s imaginary yet very real mists enveloped Leoh. When they cleared, he was standing on the upper pedestrian level of the main commercial street of the city. For a long moment, everything was still.
And then he sensed it—an amused, somewhat astonished marveling at the reality of the illusion. Dulaq’s thoughts!
He became a spectator, seeing and hearing the world through Dulaq’s eyes and ears as the Acquatainian Prime Minister advanced through his nightmarish ordeal. He felt the confusion, frustration, apprehension, and growing terror as, time and again, Odal appeared in the crowd—only to melt into someone else and escape.
The first part of the duel ended, and Leoh was suddenly buffeted by a jumble of thoughts and impressions. Then the thoughts slowly cleared and steadied.
Leoh saw an immense and totally barren plain. Not a tree, not a blade of grass, nothing but bare, rocky ground stretching in all directions to the horizon and a disturbingly harsh yellow sky. At his feet was the weapon Odal had chosen. A primitive club.
He shared Dulaq’s sense of dread as he picked up the club and hefted it. Off on the horizon he could see the tall lithe figure holding a similar club and walking toward him.
Despite himself, Leoh could feel his own excitement. He had broken through the shock-created armor that Dulaq’s mind had erected! Dulaq was reliving the part of the duel that had caused the shock.
Reluctantly, he advanced to meet Odal. But as they drew closer together, the one figure of his opponent seemed to split apart. Now there were two, four, six of them. Six Odals, six mirror images, all armed with massive, evil clubs, advancing steadily on him. Six tall, lean, blond assassins with six cold smiles on their intent faces.
Horrified, completely panicked, he scrambled away, trying to evade the six opponents with the half-dozen clubs raised and poised to strike.
Their young legs easily outdistanced him. A smash on his back sent him sprawling. One of them kicked his weapon away.
They stood over him for a malevolent, gloating second. Then six strong arms flashed down, again and again, mercilessly. Pain and blood, screaming agony, punctuated by the awful thudding of solid clubs hitting fragile flesh and bone, over and over again, endlessly, endlessly…
Everything went blank.
Leoh opened his eyes and saw Hector bending over him.
“Are you all right, sir?”
“I… I think so.”
“The controls hit the danger mark all at once. You were… well, you were screaming.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Leoh said.
They walked, with Leoh leaning on Hector’s arm, from the dueling machine to the office.
“That was… an experience,” Leoh said, easing himself onto the couch.
“What happened? What did Odal do? What made Dulaq go into shock? How does.…”
The old man silenced Hector with a wave of his hand. “One question at a time, please.”
Leoh leaned back on the deep couch and told Hector every detail of both parts of the duel.
“Six Odals,” Hector muttered soberly, leaning against the doorframe. “Six against one.”
“That’s what he did. It’s easy to see how a man expecting a polite, formal duel can be completely shattered by the viciousness of such an attack. And the machine amplifies every impulse, every sensation.” Leoh shuddered.
“But how does he do it?” Hector’s voice was suddenly demanding.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question. We’ve checked the dueling machine time and again. There’s no possible way for Odal to plug in five helpers… unless…”
“Unless?”
Leoh hesitated, seemingly debating with himself. Finally he nodded sharply and answered, “Unless Odal is a telepath.”
“Telepath? But…”
“I know it sounds farfetched, but there have been well-documented cases of telepathy.”
Frowning, Hector said, “Sure, everybody’s heard about it… natural telepaths, I mean… but they’re so unpredictable… I mean, how can…”
Leoh leaned forward on the couch and clasped his hands in front of his chin. “The Terran races have never developed telepathy, or any extrasensory talents, beyond the occasional wild talent. They never had to, not with tri-di communications and star ships. But perhaps the Kerak people are different…”
“They’re human, just like we are,” Hector’ said. “Besides, if they had, uh, telepathic abilities… well, wouldn’t they use them all the time? Why just in the dueling machine?”
“Of course!” Leoh exclaimed. “Odal’s shown telepathic ability only in the dueling machine!”
Hector blinked.
Excitedly, Leoh explained, “Suppose Odal’s a natural telepath… the same as dozens of Terrans have been proven to be. He has an erratic, difficult-to-control talent. A talent that doesn’t really amount to much. Then he gets into the dueling machine. The machine amplifies his thoughts. It also amplifies his talents!”
“Ohhh.”
“You see? Outside the machine, he’s no better than any wandering fortuneteller. But the dueling machine gives his natural abilities the amplification and reproducibility that they could never attain unaided.”
“So it’s a fairly straightforward matter for him to have five associates in the Kerak embassy sit in on the duel, so to speak. Possibly they’re natural telepaths, too, but they needn’t be.”
“They just, uh, pool their minds with his? Six men show up in the duel… pretty nasty.” Hector dropped into the desk chair. “So what do we do now?”
“Now?” Leoh blinked at the Watchman. “Why… I suppose the first thing we do is call the hospital and see how Dulaq came through.”
“Oh, yes… I forgot her… I mean, him.”
Leoh put the call through. Geri Dulaq’s face appeared on the screen, impassive.
