The Dueling Machine

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! Probably he had spent some time on planetoids. Odal scrambled to the nearest upjutting rocks and crouched behind them. Lucky I didn’t rip open the suit, he told himself. Three stones, evidently hurled in salvo, ticked off the top of the rock he was hunched behind. One of the Stones bounced off his fish-bowl 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.

He grinned at that. That’s it. Kor wants him dead, and that’s 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. Break some of his bones in the process, and let him sweat while his oxygen supply runs out. That should put enough strain on his nervous system to hospitalize him, at least. Then he can be assassinated by more conventional means. Perhaps he’ll even be as obliging as Massan, and have a fatal stroke.

A large rock. One that’s light enough to lift and throw, yet also big enough to pin him for a few moments. Once he’s down, it will be easy enough to bury him under more rocks.

Odal spotted a boulder of the proper size, a few meters away. He backed toward it, throwing small stones in Hector’s direction to keep the Watchman busy. In return, a barrage of stones began striking all around him. Several hit him, one hard enough to knock him slightly off balance.

Slowly, patiently, Odal reached his chosen weapon: an oblong boulder, about the size of a small chair. He crouched behind it and tugged at it experimentally. It moved slightly. Another stone zinged off his arm, hard enough to hurt. Odal could see Hector clearly now, standing atop a small rise, calmly firing stones at him. He smiled as he coiled, cat-like, and tensed himself. He gripped the boulder with his outstretched arms and hands.

Then in one vicious uncoiling motion he snatched it up, whirled around, and hurled it at Hector. The violence of the action sent him tottering awkwardly as he released the boulder. He fell to the ground, but kept his eyes fixed on the boulder as it tumbled end over end, directly at the Watchman.

For an eternally long instant Hector stood motionless, seemingly entranced. Then he leaped sideways, floating dream-like in the low gravity as the stone bore inexorably past him.

Odal pounded his fist on the ground in fury. He started up, only to have a good-sized stone slam against his shoulder and knock him flat again. He looked up in time to see Hector fire again. A stone puffed into the ground inches from Odal’s helmet. The Kerak major flattened himself. Several more stones clattered on his helmet and oxygen tank. Then nothing.

Odal looked up and saw Hector squatting, reaching for more ammunition. The Kerak warrior stood up quickly, his own fists filled with stones. He cocked his arm to throw…

Something made him turn around and look behind him. The boulder loomed before his eyes, still tumbling slowly as it had when he’d thrown it. It was too big and too close to avoid. It smashed into Odal, picked him off his feet, and slammed him against the upjutting rocks a few meters away.

Even before he began to feel the pain inside him, Odal began trying to push the boulder off. But he couldn’t get enough leverage. Then he saw the Star Watchman’s form standing over him.

“I didn’t really think you’d fall for it,” Hector’s voice said in his earphones. “I mean… didn’t you realize that the boulder was too massive to escape completely after it missed me? You just threw it into orbit… uh, a two- minute orbit, roughly. It had to come back… all I had to do was keep you in the same spot for a few minutes.”

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