Guerlan wore a long, thin rapier for a weapon, it had come with the costume, or he'd never have thought of wearing it--nothing like this fantastic nightmare could possibly have occurred to him. "Why did they have to choose me!" He groaned inwardly. But with a swift movement he drew the blade and stood _en garde_. He sensed dimly that it was a true weapon, flexible and needle-sharp, not a costume-toy. And once he had it in his hand, all his relentless, austere training in fencing and sword-play came flooding in his mind. It was not considered sportsmanlike to hunt Irreconcilables with atmo-pistols, only swords and spears were used--but the end was the same for the defenseless rebels. Dimly Guerlan was aware of the dispassionate voice whispering in his ear, "Watch out for tricks ... and win! The penalty will be far less severe." Guerlan wondered if his unknown acquaintance of the frigid voice meant that his rebellious words had reached the awesome figure on the dais, and that by winning he might be shown mercy. But he had no more time to think irrelevant thoughts, for with a cry of drunken fury, his accuser struck without preamble, slashing downward in a mighty blow calculated to have cloven anything in two. But Guerlan smiled contemptuously at the transparent maneuver; he merely shifted sideways and flicked his rapier, and the sword slid harmlessly along the shining columbium steel rapier. But the pseudo-pirate had no intentions of giving up the initiative, he whirled the saber over his head and again brought it down in a glancing blow that would have sheared through Guerlan, and the young scientist again parried it with such precision that the razor-sharp blade slid off singing to one side. * * * * * It was a superb struggle, and His Benevolence had directed his palace minions to clear space for his unobstructed view. He now held a gigantic uncut, but polished diamond to one eye, which he alternated with an emerald and then a ruby, watching the battle through various colors. An immense golden platter of viands and fruits slowly disappeared down his capable maw. Suddenly Guerlan closed in. His rapier flashed with vertiginous speed, flicking in and out, so rapidly that it barely seemed to touch the brawny forearm of his attacker, but when it came away it left a flowing gash from elbow to wrist. With a bellow of humiliation and rage, the pirate-costumed scientist lunged with a tremendous slash, but his sword-point speared the air and before he could recover his balance, Guerlan drove his rapier deep into the fleshy shoulder.