Mirror Friend, Mirror Foe

serious injury. Third blood is a duel to the death, and the fight will continue until one of the combatants is dead, even if it means the seconds have to hold a wounded duelist up until the death blow is struck.”

“Oh!” said Tom, properly mollified.

Casey had been studying Hosato suspiciously throughout the exchange. “You seem to know an awful lot about this stuff, Hayama,” he commented.

“This is not my first duel,” Hosato admitted.

“Hayama!” Harry exploded in sudden recognition. “Hey. I’ve heard of you. You’re a professional duelist!”

Hosato inclined his head in acknowledgment. There was a pregnant moment of silence as the brothers exchanged glances.

“Mr. Scale,” said Moabe, stepping forward, “do you wish to reconsider accepting Mr. Mathers’ apology?”

Harry started, then brandished his sword. “Why?

I’m not scared of him. Come on, Hayama. Let’s get this thing over with.”

Mentally, Hosato cursed Moabe. If he had just kept his mouth shut for a few more minutes, Harry might have backed down on his own. But Harry was a bully, and would never back away from a fight on someone else’s suggestion. Well, there was no getting out of it now. With a sigh Hosato stepped forward and struck a pose, legs straight, sword and sword arm extended level at shoulder height.

Harry regarded the stance suspiciously.

“If you will come en garde, Mr. Scale,” Moabe prompted. “Extend your sword until its point touches that of Mr. Hayama’s. I will then give the signal to begin.”

Harry shot a black look at the umpire, then awkwardly initiated Hosato’s stance and extended his sword.

“Ready, gentlemen. Fighting for first blood. Begin!” It was over almost before it started. Harry plunged forward, trying to overwhelm and surprise his opponent, but he made a mistake. Like most novices, he ignored his opponent’s arm and tried to attack deep, going for a body hit. As he closed the distance, Hosato’s sword point floated out and plunged deep into the bicep of his sword arm.

Harry recoiled, dropping the sword and grasping his wounded arm.

“Halt!” called Moabe.

Hosato stepped back and relaxed his guard.

“First blood has been drawn,” Moabe intoned. “The matter is settled.”

“Not so fast!”

All heads turned toward the source of the voice.

During the skirmish, Casey had drifted back and taken up a position behind Moabe. He was there now, but his blaster was out and leveled at the umpire.

“Harry didn’t agree to this first-blood bull.”

“He entered into combat after the terms had—”

“Shut up, Moabe. What do you say, Harry?”

“Come on, Casey. I’m hurt!”

“Casey glared at his brother for a moment, then turned his gaze to Hosato. “Hayama,” he said, “I know you wouldn’t want to take advantage of Harry’s condition, so what say you switch that sword over to your left hand. Now!”

Slowly Hosato complied with the order.

“Okay now, Harry?” Casey called.

“Okay. Come on, Hayama. Just you and me.”

Hosato advanced slowly to meet him.

Harry was lying. It wasn’t just the two of them. It was becoming increasingly apparent to Hosato that if he succeeded in killing Harry, one of the other brothers would gun him down, rules or no rules. He had been afraid something like this would happen. That’s why he had a small, flat two-shot blaster secreted in his pocket. Casey had timed his move well, however, and there was no way to reach the weapon without drawing fire from the other two brothers.

Harry plunged forward again. Hosato parried and bounded backward, ignoring his chance for a fatal riposte.

“Not so good with your left hand, are you, Hayama?” Harry sneered.

“Get him, Harry!” Tom called from the side.

As a matter of fact, Hosato was almost as good with his left hand as he was with his right, but he didn’t dare act. Tom’s shout fixed the third brother’s location in his mind, though, and gave him the germ of an idea.

Steeling himself, Hosato darted forward, on the attack. Harry batted the lunge clumsily aside, but didn’t attempt a counterthrust as Hosato slipped past him.

“Pretty fancy, Hayama,” he admitted grudgingly.

Hosato mentally heaved a sigh of relief. The move had been risky. If Harry had been an experienced fencer, he wouldn’t have dared try it for fear of the reflexive counterthrust. But he had gambled, and it worked. Now he was in position. Harry advanced again, but this time Hosato gave ground, backpedaling away from his opponent.

“Ready, Moabe?” he called.

“Ready for what?” Tom demanded.

For a reply, Hosato whirled and plunged his epee into Tom’s chest.

“Hey!” shouted Casey.

That was all the distraction Moabe needed. Dropping to the ground and drawing his blaster in one smooth motion, he cut Casey down with one shot.

Harry had dropped his sword and was drawing his own blaster as Casey fell. “You bastard!” he screamed, leveling the weapon at Moabe’s back.

Hosato’s shot took him as he squeezed the trigger stud, the two blasts sounding as one.

Silence echoed over the field.

“Moabe?” Hosato called at last.

“He has ceased to function,” Suzi informed him.

Hosato hung his head in fatigue and sorrow. He had liked Moabe, however short their acquaintance had been.

Suzi retrieved Harry’s sword and floated silently to his side. Hosato sighed and began to secure the weapons in her storage compartment. He didn’t chide Suzi for not assisting in the fight. However human she seemed at times, she was still a robot, and therefore incapable of killing or injuring a human.

“Someone’s coming,” Suzi announced.

Hosato raised his head and saw a man approaching from the spaceport. This man was of a different cut than most, his conservative clothes, like a uniform, identifying him as a corporation man. He gave the strewn bodies no more than a casual glance, striding purposefully toward the survivor.

Hosato studied him with mild curiosity as he approached. He had been hired as a duelist by corporate men before, but not often.

The man came to a halt at a slight distance. “May I ask whom I am addressing?” he inquired.

“I am Hayama,” Hosato replied.

A vague ripple of relief crossed the man’s face. “Excellent. My name is Reilly. I represent the Raven-steel Corporation, and we are interested in retaining your services.”

Hosato’s eyebrows went up. “Am I to understand it would be the corporation and not yourself individually who would be retaining my skills?”

“That’s right. Why. Is something wrong?”

“No. I just can’t imagine why a corporation would require the services of a duelist.”

“We don’t.” Reilly smiled. “You see, we at Ravensteel are aware that despite your obvious abilities, dueling is not your main livelihood, just as Hayama isn’t your real name. Your name is Hosato, and you are a freelance spy and saboteur, one of the best, according to our sources. Ravensteel needs a saboteur, and we need one badly.