Odal’s face appeared again and again. Dulaq struggled through the throngs to find his opponent, only to have him vanish. The crowd seemed to be filled with tall, blond men crisscrossing before Dulaq’s dismayed eyes. The shadows lengthened. The sun was setting. Dulaq could feel his heart pounding within him and perspiration pouring from every square inch of his skin. There he is! Definitely, positively him! Dulaq pushed through the homeward-bound crowds toward the figure of a tall, blond man leaning against the safety railing of the city’s main thoroughfare. It was Odal, the damned smiling confident Odal. Dulaq pulled the wand from his tunic and battled across the surging crowd to the spot where Odal stood motionless, hands in pockets, watching him. Dulaq came within arm’s reach ... “TIME, GENTLEMEN. TIME IS UP, THE DUEL IS ENDED.” * * * * * High above the floor of the antiseptic-white chamber that housed the dueling machine was a narrow gallery. Before the machine had been installed, the chamber had been a lecture hall in Acquatainia’s largest university. Now the rows of students’ seats, the lecturer’s dais and rostrum were gone. The chamber held only the machine, the grotesque collection of consoles, control desks, power units, association circuits, and booths where the two antagonists sat. In the gallery—empty during ordinary duels—sat a privileged handful of newsmen. “Time limit is up,” one of them said. “Dulaq didn’t get him.” “Yes, but he didn’t get Dulaq, either.” The first one shrugged. “The important thing is that now Dulaq has to fight Odal on _his_ terms. Dulaq couldn’t win with his own choice of weapons and situation, so—” “Wait, they’re coming out.” Down on the floor below, Dulaq and his opponent emerged from their enclosed booths. One of the newsmen whistled softly. “Look at Dulaq’s face ... it’s positively gray.” “I’ve never seen the Prime Minister so shaken.” “And take a look at Kanus’ hired assassin.” The newsmen turned toward Odal, who stood before his booth, quietly chatting with his seconds. “Hm-m-m. There’s a bucket of frozen ammonia for you.” “He’s enjoying this.” One of the newsmen stood up. “I’ve got a deadline to meet. Save my seat.” He made his way past the guarded door, down the rampway circling the outer walls of the building, to the portable tri-di transmitting unit that the Acquatainian government had permitted for the newsmen on the campus grounds outside the former lecture hall. The newsman huddled with his technicians for a few minutes, then stepped before the transmitter. “Emile Dulaq, Prime Minister of the Acquataine Cluster and acknowledged leader of the coalition against Chancellor Kanus of the Kerak Worlds, has failed in the first part of his psychonic duel against Major Par Odal of Kerak. The two antagonists are now undergoing the routine medical and psychological checks before renewing their duel.”