The Dueling Machine

The professor was sitting in the office that the Acquatainians had given him in one end of the former lecture hall that now held the dueling machine. Leoh could see its impassive metal hulk through the open office door. The room he was sitting in had been one of a suite of offices used by the permanent staff of the machine. But they had moved out of the building completely, in deference (or was it jealousy) to Leoh, and the Acquatainian government had turned the cubbyhole offices into living quarters for Leoh and the Star Watchman.

Leoh slouched back in his desk chair and cast a weary eye on the stack of papers that recorded the latest performance of the machine. Earlier that day he had taken the electroencephalographic records of clinical cases of catatonia and run them through the machine’s input circuits. The machine immediately rejected them, refused to process them through the amplification units and association circuits. In other words, the machine had recognized the EEG traces as something harmful to human beings.

Then how did it happen to Dulaq? Leoh asked himself for the thousandth time. It couldn’t have been the machine’s fault; it must have been something in Odal’s mind that overpowered .Dulaq’s.

“Overpowered?” That’s a terribly unscientific term, Leoh argued against himself.

Before he could carry the debate any further, he heard the main door of the big chamber slide open and bang shut, and Hector’s off-key whistle shrilled and echoed through the high-vaulted room.

Leoh sighed and put his self-contained argument off to the back of his mind. Trying to think logically near Hector was a hopeless prospect.

“Are you in, Professor?” the Star Watchman’s voice rang out.

“In here.”

Hector ducked in through the doorway and plopped his rangy frame on the couch.

“Everything going well, sir?”

Leoh shrugged. “Not very well, I’m afraid. I can’t find anything wrong with the dueling machine. I can’t even force it to malfunction.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Hector chirped happily.

“In a sense,” Leoh admitted, feeling slightly nettled at the youth’s boundless, pointless optimism. “But, you see, it means that Kanus’ people can do things with the machine that I can’t.”

Hector considered the problem. “Hmm… yes, I guess that’s right too, isn’t it?”

“Did you see the girl back to her ship safely?” Leoh asked.

“Yessir,” Hector replied, bobbing his head vigorously. “She’s on her way back to the communications booth at the space station. She said to tell you thanks and she enjoyed the visit a lot.”

“Good. It was very good of you to escort her around the campus. It kept her out of my hair… what’s left of it, that is.”

Hector grinned. “Oh, I liked taking her around and all that… and, well, it sort of kept me out of your hair too, didn’t it?”

Leoh’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Laughing, Hector said, “Professor, I may be clumsy, and I’m sure no scientist… but I’m not completely brainless.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

“Oh no… don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound… well, the way it sounded… That is, I know I’m just in your way…” He started to get up.

Leoh waved him back to the couch. “Relax, my boy, relax. You know, I’ve been sitting here all afternoon wondering what to do next. Somehow, just now, I’ve come to a conclusion.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to leave the Acquataine Cluster and return to Carinae.”

“What? But you can’t! I mean…”

“Why not? I’m not accomplishing anything here. Whatever it is that this Odal and Kanus have been doing, it’s basically a political problem, not a scientific one. The professional staff of the machine here will catch up to their tricks, sooner or later.”

“But, sir, if you can’t find the answer, how can they?”

“Frankly, I don’t know. But, as I said, this is a political problem more than a scientific one. I’m tired and frustrated and I’m feeling my years. I want to return to Carinae and spend the next few months considering beautifully abstract problems such as instantaneous transportation devices. Let Massan and the Star Watch worry about Kanus.”

“Oh! That’s what I came to tell you. Massan has been challenged to a duel by Odal.”

“What?”

“This afternoon. Odal went to the Capital building and picked an argument with Massan right in the main corridor and challenged him.”

“Massan accepted?” Leoh asked.

Hector nodded.

Leoh leaned across his desk and reached for the phone. It took a few minutes and a few levels of secretaries and assistants, but finally Massan’s dark, bearded face appeared on the screen above the desk.

“You’ve accepted Odal’s challenge?” Leoh asked, without preliminaries.

“We meet next week,” Massan replied gravely.

“You should have refused.”

“On what pretext?”

“No pretext. A flat refusal, based on the certainty that Odal or someone else from Kerak is tampering with the dueling machine.”

Massan shook his head sadly. “My dear learned sir, you do not comprehend the political situation. The government of Acquatainia is much closer to dissolution than I dare to admit publicly. The coalition of star-nations that Dulaq had constructed to keep Kerak neutralized has broken apart completely. Kerak is already arming. This morning, Kanus announced he would annex Szarno, with its enormous armaments industry. This afternoon, Odal challenges me.”

“I think I see…”

“Of course. The Acquataine government is paralyzed now, until the outcome of the duel is known. We cannot effectively intervene in the Szarno crisis until we know who will be heading the government next week. And, frankly, more than a few members of the Cabinet are now openly favoring Kanus and arguing that we should establish friendly relations with him before it is too late.”

“But that’s all the more reason for refusing the duel,” Leoh insisted.

“And be accused of cowardice in my own Cabinet meetings?” Massan shook his head. “In politics, my dear sir, the appearance of a man means much—sometimes more than his substance. As a coward, I would soon be out of office. But, perhaps, as the winner of a duel against the invincible Odal… or even as a martyr… I may accomplish something useful.”

Leoh said nothing.

Massan continued, “I put off the duel for a week, which is the longest time I dare to postpone. I hope that in that time you can discover Odal’s secret. As it is, the political situation may collapse about our heads at any moment.”

“I’ll take the machine apart and rebuild it again, molecule by molecule,” Leoh promised.

As Massan’s image faded from the screen, Leoh turned to Hector. “We have one week to save his life.”

“And, uh, maybe prevent a war,” Hector added.

“Yes.” Leoh leaned back in his chair and stared off into infinity.

Hector shuffled his feet, rubbed his nose, whistled a few bars of off-key tunes, and finally blurted, “How can you take apart the dueling machine?”

“Hmm?” Leoh snapped out of his reverie.

“How can you take apart the dueling machine?” Hector repeated. “I mean… well, it’s a big job to do in a week.”

“Yes, it is. But, my boy, perhaps we—the two of us—can do it.”

Hector scratched his head. “Well, uh, sir… I’m not very… that is, my mechanical aptitude scores at the