The Dueling Machine

The tunnel was long and straight—and narrow! Hopefully, Leoh planted his car in the middle of the roadway and throttled down as much as he could. Still, the tunnel walls were a blur as he roared by, the turbine echoing shrilly against the encasing rock.

The red car was pulling close and now it was trying to pass him. Leoh swerved slightly to the left, to block it. The red car moved right. Leoh edged that way. Odal cut left again.

Got to keep ahead of him. Time must be almost over. Odal was insisting on his left. Leoh pushed farther to the left, staying ahead of him. But Odal kept coming, up off the roadway and onto the curving tunnel wall with his left wheels. Leoh stayed on the left of the road and Odal swung even farther up the wall just behind Leoh’s fender.

Glancing at the rearview screen, Leoh could see Odal’s face clenched grimly, determined to pass him. The red car seemed to climb halfway up the curving tunnel wall and…

And then fell over, out of control, smashing over upside down onto the roadway, exploding in a shower of sparks and fuel with a concussion that slammed Leoh so hard he nearly lost control of his car.

He found himself sitting in the dueling machine booth, the screen before him a calm flat gray, his body soaking wet, his hands pressed into aching fists in front of him, as though he were still gripping the car’s steering wheel.

The door jerked open and Hector ducked into the booth, his face anxious.

“You’re all right?”

Leoh’s arms dropped and his whole body relaxed.

“I beat him,” he said. “I beat Odal!”

They stepped outside the booth, Leoh smiling broadly now. Across the way, Odal’s thin face was deathly grim. The crowd was absolutely still, not daring to believe what it saw.

The chief meditech cleared his throat and announced loudly, “Professor Leoh is the victor!”

The crowd’s sudden roar burst through the room. They rose from their seats, swarmed down upon the machine and lifted Leoh and Hector to their shoulders. Jumping up and down on the main control desk, yelling louder than anyone, Was the white-coated chief meditech. Outside, the much larger throng was cheering even harder.

Within a few minutes no one was left in the chamber except a few of the uniformed policemen, Odal, and his seconds.

“Are you able to go outside now?” asked one of the soldiers, also a major.

The taut expression on Odal’s face relaxed a little. “Of course.”

The three men walked from the building to a waiting ground car. The other soldier, a colonel, said to, Odal, “You have taken your death rather well.”

“Thank you.” Odal managed a thin smile. “But after all, it’s not as though I was killed by the enemy. I engaged in a suicide mission, and my mission has been accomplished.”

12

“I…well… you saw what happened,” Hector said to Geri. “How could anybody do anything in that mob?”

They were sitting together in a restaurant near the tri-di studio where Leoh was being lionized by a panel of Acquatainia’s leading citizens.

She poked at her food with a fork and said, “You might never get the chance to kill him again. He’s probably on his way back to Kerak right now.”

“Well, maybe that’s… I mean… murder just isn’t right.…”

“It wouldn’t be murder,” Geri said coldly, staring at her plate. “It would be an execution. Odal deserves to die! And if you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who can!”

“Geri… I…”

“If you really loved me, you’d have done it already.” She looked as though she was going to cry.

“But it’s…”

“You promised me!”

Hector sagged, defeated. “All right, don’t cry. I’ll… I’ll think of something.”

Odal sat now in the office of the Kerak ambassador. The ambassador had left discreetly when Kor’s call came through.

The Kerak major sat at a huge desk, leaning back comfortably in the soft padding of the luxurious leather swivel chair. The wall-sized view screen across the room seemed to dissolve into another room: Kor’s dimly lit office. The Intelligence Minister eyed Odal for a long moment before speaking.

“You seem relieved.”

“I have performed an unpleasant duty, and done it successfully,” Odal said.

“Yes, I know. Leoh is now serving us to his full capacity. The Acquatainians will look up to him now as their savior. The fear they felt of Major Par Odal is now dissolved, and with it, their fear of Kerak is also purged.

They associate Leoh with safety and victory. And while they are toasting him and listening to his pompous speeches, we will strike!”

Even though his presence in the room was only an image, Odal saw clearly what was in Kor’s mind: bigger prisons, more prisoners, more interrogation rooms filled with terrified, helpless people who would cringe at the mention of Kor’s name.

“Now then,” Kor said, “new duties await you, Major. Not quite so unpleasant as committing suicide. And these duties will be performed here in Kerak.”

Odal said evenly, “I would not wish to interrogate other army officers again.”

“I realize that,” Kor replied, frowning. “That phase of our investigation is finished. But there are other groups that must be examined. You would have no objection, I trust, to interrogating diplomats… members of the Foreign Ministry?”

Romis’ people? Odal thought. Kor must be insane. Romis won’t stand for having his people arrested.

“Yes, Romis,” Kor answered the major’s unspoken question. “Who else would have the pigheaded pride to lead the plotting against the Leader?”

Or the intelligence, Odal found himself thinking. Aloud he asked, “When do I return to Kerak?”

“Tomorrow morning a ship will be ready for you.”

Odal nodded. Then I have only tonight to find the Watchman and crush him.

Hector paced nervously along the narrow control booth of the tri-di studio. Technicians and managers bent over the monitors and electronic gear. Behind them, shadowed in the dimly lit booth, were a host of visitors whom Hector elbowed and jostled as he fidgeted up and down.

Beyond the booth’s window wall was the well-lit studio where Leoh sat flanked by a full dozen of Acquatainia’s leading newsmen and political philosophers.

The old man looked very tired but very pleased. The show had started by running the tape of the duel against Odal. Then the panel members began questioning Leoh about the duel, the machine itself, his career in science, his whole life.

Hector turned from the studio to peer into the crowd of onlookers in the dimly lit control booth. Geri was still there, off by the far corner, squeezed between an old politician and a slickly dressed female advertising executive. Geri was still pouting. Hector turned away before she saw him watching her.

“It seems clear,” one of the political pundits was saying out in the studio, “that Kanus can’t use the dueling machine to frighten us any more. And without fear, Kanus isn’t half the threat we thought he was.”

“I disagree,” Leoh said, shifting his bulk in the frail-looking web chair. “Kerak has made great strides in isolating Acquatainia diplomatically…”